Transformers: The Hunt for Prime
by Clumsy Peg
Summary: Transformers 3, because we can do it better!
1. Monologue

**Clumsy Peg:** Greetings, good people of the Transformers fandom!

**Kibble Beast:** Welcome to the first chapter of our united fanfic! :D

**Clumsy Peg:** Well, this is really just a teaser to get you ready for the epicness that is to come. :P

**Kibble Beast: **But we know you all like Optimus, so you'll be very excited. Especially when he monologues. No one monologues like Optimus. :3

**Clumsy Peg:** Indeed. His monologue gift is above all. So, without further ado, please enjoy the epic teaser to OUR version of Transformers 3...Optimus's opening monologue!

**Disclaimer: We don't own/pretend to own Transformers or anything associated with the franchise that would end in both of us getting sued for more money that we have.**

* * *

"Power.

It is a trait commonly desired by both humans and Cybertronians, yet cannot be employed lightly. When wielded by those with righteous intentions, it can spread harmony across nations. If used honourably, it can bring peace to civil unrest and unnecessary suffering.

...But even the best of intentions can lose themselves in the struggle for supremacy. For when used wrongly, in misdirection or in evil... it destroys all that we know. Power has the potential to change the very Universe.

After what seems an eternity of conflict, at last the Great War nears its end. No more, it seems, do our brave allies die in vain. The last of the Decepticons are being captured across the galaxies where possible... and unfortunately killed when they cannot be. A great many will not surrender; after so long, it is not their way to lay down arms.

But Megatron still remains at large... and I fear he will return to our new home to wreak havoc, bringing his vengeance upon us. It is said by many that he is the embodiment of all that is a Decepticon; as long as he lives, this war will persist. It is hard to believe it now, but he was not always this way... I hope that this is known before the end.

Megatron's thirst for power corrupted his once benevolent mind, twisting my beloved brother into an unrecognizable tyrant before my optics... and I could not help him. This same thirst began our bitter war and brought about the destruction of Cybertron itself.

It is my greatest sorrow that my brother has betrayed us all... and my greatest regret that I did nothing until it was too late."

* * *

**Epic, yes?**

**Indeed it is.**

**We would enjoy your comments/speculations in the form of reviews. :3**


	2. Of Cannons and Cards

We are very sorry, readers! We had hoped to post this first real chapter much, much sooner!

But its here now, so...yay! :D

Welcome to the first official chapter of Transformers: The Hunt For Prime!

We hope you enjoy!

P.S. Shameless self promotion on Clumsy Peg's part-- please go to my profile page, and click the link I have in my News section. I'd be greatly appreciative if you'd vote for my pictures! :D

P.P.S. - Kibble Beast came up with a WONDERFUL addition to the beginning! :D It is now included.

* * *

The island of Diego Garcia was calm as could be.

The bright sun shone magnificently over the sand, the water lapped quietly on the shore, and a refreshing breeze kept the temperature comfortable. All in all, the Autobots' base of operations was peaceful.

"**TWINS**!"

Ratchet's voice pierced through the no-longer-peaceful air like an arrow. Or, more accurately, a wrench.

The medic glared down at the silver and gold Stingray mechs as they shuffled into his med-bay. Both were battered and covered in scratches, and avoided Ratchet's death gaze like their lives depended on it.

"What in the name of Primus did you do to yourselves this time? I'd understand a few months ago when we were still fighting Decepticons but now?" Ratchet paced back and forth between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, brandishing a **foreboding** wrench, held tightly in his left hand. His voice grew louder, anger seeping off him in turbulent, almost visible waves. "What happened, did you throw yourselves in the middle of Ironhide's target practice?!?"

"My bodywork, Ratch," Sunstreaker whispered nervously. "It's-"

"_Enough. _And _you_? Any justifications?!"

Sideswipe was just about to stutter an excuse when Ironhide burst through the med-bay doors angrily.

He pointed at the Twins, cannons rumbling furiously. "There you two are!"

They both flinched and tried to hide behind an unforgiving Ratchet.

"I think I want to hear this, _boys_..." The CMO hissed, firmly taking hold of them.

"What were you slag-heads thinking, racing through the target practice area?" Ironhide continued. "You're lucky you only took _that_ amount of damage, because if I hadn't seen you two _idiots _in time there wouldn't be enough of you both to fill half an energon cube! You would've been _obliterated_ if I had hit you head on! You silver and gold troublemakers will be the death of me…! And didn't Prowl warn you two that racing was against the rules anyway?"

Ratchet's glare narrowed further with the new information. "Please tell me Ironhide means the _other_ silver and gold trouble-making twins," he said, voice dangerously calm.

"We're sorry, Ratch…" Sunstreaker mumbled, still looking down.

Whack.

"You're SORRY?" Ratchet bellowed, whacking both mechs hard on the head with his wrench. This only caused the two to cower even more before the mighty wrath of Ratchet. "How many times have you been in here this past month? Seven? Ten? I don't even _want_ to know! My med-bay isn't even fully built yet, and you two have me running it like it's in full service!"

"What's all this commotion?" Optimus asked, appearing in the doorway. That was before he caught sight of Ratchet's companions. "...You two _again_?"

"Boys, why don't you tell Optimus why you're in here... **_again_**," Ratchet said. It wasn't a question; it was a command.

Optimus stared intently at the Stingray twins, patiently awaiting their answer.

"Um…well…Sunny and I were racing…"

"...And we were just cruising along, about... 128mph?"

"...We remembered _not_ to race in the human sector, like you told us," Sideswipe added.

"After the _last_ instance," Prime reminded them, "when you nearly killed Galloway."

"Time before that," Ratchet corrected. "Not that I minded on _that_ occasion."

"Nor I," Ironhide frowned. "But I thought it was the one before."

Sideswipe bravely continued. "So we headed in a different direction-"

"Yeah, and then suddenly, imbecilic Ironhide decides to shoot at us- ow!"

Ratchet hissed, wrench raised threateningly. "The _truth_."

"This _is_ the truth," Sunstreaker protested. "It's just slightly modified to reflect more positively on-"

"You're making this worse," Sideswipe groaned.

Ironhide's cannons rotated slowly. "Why don't you try again?"

The golden twin huffed, then continued in a more humble manner. "…Aaand Sides and I kinda made our way into the target practice area…"

"…where we got in the way of Ironhide's cannons," his brother finished.

Both studied the floor as if they had seen nothing as complex or as interesting in their lives, and shuffled restlessly. "Sorry...?"

"We won't do it again..."

"Don't send us to Prowlie," Sideswipe begged. "Ple-"

"The guilty cannot decide their sentence." Ever sadistically gleeful, Ratchet was happy to put that thought of their helms.

Optimus simply rubbed his optic ridges, sighed, and then addressed Ratchet. "Once you fix them up, send them down to Prowl. I'm sure he'll want to know about this."

The medic nodded, but still held an angry scowl on his face. "You're both lucky I'm even repairing you this time."

"...But-"

One of Ratchet's optics narrowed. "Did you just say something?"

Sunstreaker quickly scratched his helm. "Nope."

Sideswipe glared at him. "This is your fault. I wasn't in trouble before _you_ got here."

His twin raised a fist. "Don't pin this on me! You were racing too-"

"Shall I add _fighting_ to my list of complaints...?" Ratchet hissed.

Both Stingrays froze, then went to sit on a nearby medical berth without further ado.

Ratchet strangled the air savagely before closing his optics. "...Concentrate on breathing, Ratchet. _Breathing_."

His optics snapped open after several intakes of air.

Optimus watched. "Are you feeling calmer?"

Ratchet's sigh shook his entire body threateningly. "_No_."

And with that, off he went, fingers twitching longingly as he neared the Twins.

Ironhide's brief sniggering didn't last long, as Optimus' helm snapped over in his direction. "_Ironhide_..."

"Optimus?"

"You do not pull off the innocent look well."

"I did nothing wrong!"

"For your sake, I hope you didn't. I hope you _were_ in the target practice area, firing at _targets_."

Ironhide huffed. "Of course I was."

"Hm."

The black mech suddenly pointed at him suspiciously. "You're only saying that to me because of Sam."

Optimus shifted uncomfortably.

"Well," Ratchet hissed suddenly, whilst yanking on Sideswipe's arm, "would you rather Sam be obliterated by your trigger-happy tendencies?"

"Just do your job, medic," Ironhide scowled. "This doesn't concern you."

"Of course it concerns me, you malfunctioning-"

"Enough," Optimus sighed, raising both hands. "This isn't necessary. Just be careful when he arrives."

Ironhide rolled his optics. "As _if _I'd squash him. He's no different to the human N.E.S.T forces... except being a little shorter," he added thoughtfully.

Sunstreaker moved one of his legs, wincing. "Does that mean Bumblebee's coming, too?"

"You will not dare corrupt Bumblebee with your wicked ways," Ratchet growled.

"Would we _ever_?" Sideswipe sighed happily, gazing into the distance.

"Don't even try."

"..._Ratchet_," the golden Twin suddenly spoke, drawing out the name. "...Do you need any help in here?"

"We could help out," his brother added.

Ratchet glared at them both. "Nothing will get you out of being reported to Prowl."

Sunstreaker whined. "Please?"

"Didn't I say _nothing_?"

Ironhide turned, cannons rotating happily. "Back to target practice. Coming, Prime?"

Optimus paused. "...Yes, why not."

The shorter Autobot clenched a fist in approval, then strode away. "Let's go slag some filthy 'cons!"

"But...'hide, it's not Decepticons we're shooting. It's targets...?" Optimus' appeal went unnoticed by the other mech. With a long-suffering sigh and glance at Ratchet, Prime followed.

* * *

An hour later, Ratchet was escorting the Twins to Prowl's office, not trusting them to go alone. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were muttering back and forth, each probably blaming the other even more for the trouble they were in. But their bickering was cut short; it seemed to them that they reached Prowl's office all too soon.

Prowl didn't even look up from the data pads he was scrutinizing when he heard the knock at his door.

"Come in."

The Twins hesitantly shuffled in, only to be shoved the rest of the way by Ratchet. The medic closed the door behind them, leaving Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to face Prowl alone.

The tactician finally looked up at the two mechs, who were both looking down at the floor meekly.

"Hiya, Prowlie…"

Prowl sighed. They only called him "Prowlie" when they were in trouble. Which happened to be almost constantly. "My name is _Prowl_, Sideswipe. What brings you two to my office for the tenth time this week?"

"Ratchet brought us," Sunny replied brightly.

"...And why did he have to do that?"

"Umm…"

"Weeeeellll…"

"Out with it, boys," Prowl said sternly.

"Yeah, Sideswipe, tell him," his golden twin added, shoving him slightly.

Sideswipe sighed in defeat, but not before giving a swift glare to his brother. "We were racing."

Prowl closed his optics and cycled a deep breath of air before continuing. "And where were you racing?"

"Uh…"

"You're only delaying the inevitable, Sunstreaker."

"We were racing…in…the target practice area…" Sunstreaker said quietly, still looking at the floor.

Calm as ever, Prowl continued his questioning. "Was anyone practicing at the time?"

"Yes…" Sideswipe answered, almost whispering.

"Did you two get in the way?"

The Twins didn't need to answer this question; the way they shrank away from Prowl was all the answer the tactician needed.

"You two could have been seriously hurt," Prowl said, standing up and walking around his desk. "I take it you've already seen Ratchet?"

"Yeaaaaaaaah..."

Mouth slightly pursed, Prowl nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I thought I heard him shouting earlier."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were shifting uncomfortably beneath Prowl's strong, yet concerned, gaze. To them, it was worse than facing Ratchet.

"We're sorry Prowlie…"

"Yeah, we won't do it again, we promise!"

"Once again, my name is _Prowl_. And you two had better hope you don't do it again, because the next time this happens I won't let you off so easily. You're free to go."

The Stingray Twins blinked in surprise.

"…What?"

"I said, 'you're free to go,' Sunstreaker."

"Really?"

"Unless you sincerely want me to give you a punishment."

Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe cheered and dove out Prowl's door before the tactician could change his mind.

"Thanks, Prowlie!"

"We owe you one!"

Prowl sighed at their rapidly disappearing backs, then commed Ironhide. //_If they race in the target practice again, I'll be up there personally._//

//_...You didn't punish them, did you._// Disapproval was clear.

//_Don't you consider Ratchet a punishment? Besides, it is unlikely they'll do it again._//

//_Says who? Says my cannons when I accidentally hit them?_//

//_You never miss, Ironhide,// _the Second in Command sighed. _//I'd know if you shot at them._//

//_You could look the other way..._//

//_I could not_**,**// Prowl announced firmly. //_It would be biast._//

//..._No one would have to know..._//

//_Ironhide!_//

//_Your Twin terrors are going to be thoroughly hit if they race through my area again.// _Ironhide warned. _//_**That**_ is a promise._//

Prowl exhaled quietly, and turned back to his data-pads, seating himself.

There was blissful silence for a moment.

//..._Optimus is going to be severely fragged off if they run Sam over,_// Ironhide added smugly.

_Why him? _Prowl rubbed his nasal-plating wearily. _//They aren't going to run Sam over.//_

_//Why, Prowl. You have such faith in them. _**Favouritism.**_//_

//_Excuse me?!//_ The second nearly spluttered. _//What did you just say!?//_

//_Nothing, Prowl. Nothing.// _Ironhide's smirk was almost palpable.

//_Ironhide, it's a comm. link. I hear everything you s-_//

_//PROWL!//_ A new voice burst into Prowl's audios.

_//...Yes, Ratchet?//_

_//Why are those infernal and infuriating fools prancing around just outside of my med-bay?! I'm going to tear them-//_

There were suddenly sounds of a brief scuffle.

Ironhide sniggered. //_Oooh, looks painful._//

Prowl's sigh as he stood up again would have drawn empathy from someone as emotionless as even _Soundwave_. He twitched his doorwings once, rolled his shoulders, then strode out. He would have to deal with this.

* * *

Lennox was attempting to teach Sunny and Sides how to play cards.

Well- after they had (once again), escaped from Ratchet, who had been called to the other side of the base. Something about Jolt getting too close to the water again. Anyway.

This was certainly much, much harder than it looked.

The problem didn't lie in the fact that the cards were kind of dwarfed by their hands- if Optimus Prime could carry _glasses_, the Twins could hold _playing cards _without damaging them.

No.

The problem was _definitely_ that they were shameless cheats.

And, _damn_ them, they were even becoming sneaky about it.

Sideswipe pouted at his cards, frowning as he leant towards the soldier across the gigantic med-bay berth he was seated upon. "Say, Will. What does _this _combination do?"

Lennox raised himself up slightly to see- then snapped his head around.

Sunstreaker was suddenly regarding the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen, even whistling slightly.

Epps snorted. "Good one, Lennox."

With a controlled sigh, the soldier turned to see Sideswipe peering over his shoulder.

"You could _win_ with those."

"I _know_," Lennox ground his teeth. "Why don't you look at _your_ hand?"

The silver mech studied his appendage in confusion. "Why?"

"Not your _hand_! Your hand!" Lennox waved his cards at him.

"An ace, King, Queen and Jack! You could _flush_, Will!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, catching sight of said cards.

"Yes, _thank you_."

"It is flushing, isn't it?" he asked uncertainly.

"_Yes_," Lennox growled, then remembered that he should have known better than to blatantly display his hand. He was playing highly advanced aliens, after all. "We're re-shuffling."

He collected the cards, shuffled, then dealt, flicking the cards skilfully around the berth. Damn, was he proud of his card tricks.

Both mechs watched intently. "That is _fascinating_."

Epps grinned at his new set of cards, nudging Graham, who was beside him. "At least we can have some fun with the new _liaison_."

"That's cruel. The kid _is_ gonna have it tough for a bit. We should let him settle in first," Lennox interrupted.

"You don't need to antagonize him further," Graham agreed.

"Someone's been hanging round with the Boss Bot too much," Epps replied. "Don't worry; I won't 'antagonize him further'..._Much_."

"I heard that...!" Will sternly pointed at his friend. "And no setting these two on him either," he added, gesturing at the Twins.

A sudden gasp. "No way! Will, you have a straight-"

Lennox whipped around, glaring at Sideswipe. The mech was tilting his helm, reading his- oh, yes. He had again _clearly_ brandished his hand when he had pointed at Epps.

"No! This stops now!" He stood up, thumping a fist on the berth. "Stop looking at my cards!"

"But-"

"No! It's rude!"

"But surely-"

"It's unacceptable!"

"But we-"

"It's _cheating_!"

Epps was busy sniggering over him. "Always got a _way_ with the giant alien robots who could easily squash you, Lennox."

Ratchet stalked in. "What is the meaning of this-!"

"******Ratchet**!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, surprised at the medic's sudden appearance.

Sideswipe tried to explain while slowly backing away. "We were just utilizing your _berth_-"

"Not like _that_-" Sunny scowled.

Ratchet blinked moodily. "Would you like to do something for me?"

Sideswipe gulped. "Do we get a choice?"

"Get out of my sight _now _or I will make you suffer--!"

Lennox peered behind the medic as the scared Stingrays began to inch towards the door. Maybe the med-bay wasn't the _best_ place to play cards. "...Hey, Ratchet. Aren't they already suffering?"

"This is just the beginning," Ratchet snarled. "Which reminds me- I wasn't finished."

He turned away and stalked towards them just as Prowl arrived.

The humans couldn't hear the exchange, but watched as the second gestured at Ratchet, raising both hands slightly into the air.

The Twins dived behind him immediately.

The CMO pointed at the two, clearly irate. "YOU DIDN'T EVEN _PUNISH_ THEM!?"

Prowl's continuing placating gesticulations didn't seem to be working. He replied quietly, but Ratchet exploded.

"SO THEY JUST GET OFF WITH IDIOCY, DO THEY- DON'T PULL RANK ON ME, YOU-"

Ratchet was cut off by Prowl's following sentence.

"I let them off with the knowledge they would be _severely_ punished should it happen again!" the strategist snapped, voice growing louder- he was starting to lose his cool, which was indeed a rare occurrence.

Ratchet received a private message from Ironhide. //_Prowl playing favourites again?_//

Prowl's optics narrowed. "And _don't _think I'm playing favorites, because I've let _you_ off for wrench throwing and other anger tantrums more times than I can count! And _you_, Ironhide," he added, pointing to the approaching black mech who had just finished some more target practice, "I've let you off for blowing things up more than once!"

Ratchet, unable to come up with a snappy retort, could only glare. So glare he did; a glare of pure, seething fury.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe clung to the strategist as their not-really-big-enough-for-both-of-them shield from Ratchet's infinite wrath.

Ironhide, taken aback by the outburst, thought better of sticking around to watch the argument. He snuck out of sight, retracing his steps. Sneakily, he paused around the corner; out of sight, but within perfect eavesdropping distance. Jazz would have been proud.

Even Optimus, who had just entered the corridor, was momentarily speechless from hearing the barely restrained anger in Prowl's voice. He looked at Ironhide, who was peering craftily around the corner. "...What are you doing?"

"Shush, Optimus! ...Don't stand there! They'll see you-!"

Prime let himself be pulled against the wall. "I hope there's a good reason for your devious behaviour."

"Devious, me? I'm hurt that you would say such a thing."

"How would _you _describe what you're doing?"

Ironhide thought. "I am... gaining experience by observing how difficult situations are dealt with."

Optimus sighed, and glanced over Ironhide's helm.

Prowl had recovered his composure, and was continuing calmly. "We're all still adjusting to life on a new planet. Sometimes we need to let out our various frustrations, whether it be through throwing wrenches, racing around, or blowing up random objects. Not that I condone such activities," he added hastily, "it's just that I understand what everyone is feeling and can allow..._exceptions_ once in a while."

"Really?"

"...How often is once in a while?"

Prowl turned to the predictably excited Twins. "It doesn't mean you can take advantage of the situation. I cannot allow you to race or take part in any sort of pranking or other activity listed as illegal while Sam is here. The punishment will be most extensive on your part, which may or may not include leaving you to Ratchet's mercy. Am I understood?"

He was answered with two salutes. "Understood, Prowlie!"

"We won't disappoint you!"

Nodding his approval, Prowl turned to leave. "You are all dismissed."

The humans watched in awe as the Second in Command left the room.

"Damn, he's good."

* * *

So? What do you think so far?

Good? Bad? Wonderfuly Amazing? Horrible?

Let us know! We want to hear from you!

Oh, and side note: The original version of this chapter had the three Arcee femmes playing cards. But upon watching ROTF with the commentary, it was revealed that she DIED. All three. Damned Orciman. (Orciman = Orci + Kurtzman) -- Kibble Beast came up with that wonder.


	3. It's Full of Joy!

We once again return to you with another installment of our version of Transformers 3! :D

Kibble Beast and I worked hard these past few days to churn out this part. We felt you waited too long.

Hopefully the wait didn't kill you. That would be bad; yeas. Thank you all for your patience, we really appreciate it. And your reviews!! So many reviews already! We are forever in your debt, readers.

As the last chapter had character development, this one has PLOT DEVELOPMENT. Oh yeas. PREPARE YOURSELVES.

**USELESS DISCLAIMER:** We do not own the Transformers, nor Bumblebee's radio bursts. We borrowed them, yeas.

* * *

Megatron was furious. No, that was an understatement. He was positively _livid. _The giant mech stood outside the wreckage of the _Nemesis_, reflecting on the past events that brought him into such a degrading position.

"So many mistakes made...each one the reason the mighty Decepticons fell to those miserable Autobots!" The silver colossal mused heatedly. "I cannot allow this to happen again!" He snarled at nothing particular, unable to contain his blistering scorn. "Autobots..." Megatron seethed. "I _hate_ Autobots. They are weak and have survived on luck alone! They do not deserve to _live_, much less have the title of Prime...it should have been me. The title should have been given to _me_! 'Lord High Protector'...hah. They made up that title to try to placate me. Not that it didn't have its benefits," he mused, referring to his control over the military, "but it is nothing compared to the title of Prime."

Almost no memory could be called forth from his processor more easily than the one which had begun his descent- rather, Megatron corrected himself, his _rising._

He threw himself once more into its depths, as if _this_time- unlike all the other times- he would be able to find something- a moment he could have grasped that would have changed Cybertronian history, that would have secured his future as a figurehead.

* * *

_**Cybertron: **_

_"You see that, Optimus? That's Tyger Pax," Megatron said, holding his sparkling brother. Optimus was glued to the window of their ship as it began its descent into the city._

_"Big!" Optimus gasped, pointing out the window. "Like you," he added, looking up at Megatron adoringly._

_"You got that right, Optimus," his older brother said with a laugh. "What do you say? Do you want to go explore with me?" Megatron added once the ship landed._

_Optimus nodded furiously and crawled up to sit on Megatron's shoulder. The two exited the ship, only to be met with an entourage of important figures._

_Megatron narrowed his optics at them, knowing exactly what they wanted. He had taken Optimus away from Iacon City in hopes of delaying this, but it seemed like a futile effort now._

_The silver mech picked up his small brother off of his shoulder, then held the other as if he was trying to shield him from something._

_Confused and slightly frightened of them, Optimus hid his helm into Megatron's chassis with a quiet whimper._

_"You need to give him to us," Nova Prime said abruptly. "The sparkling must begin training immediately."_

_"But we've only just gotten here! Surely you can give him at least a few cycles-" Megatron started, controlling his anger for his brother's sake._

_"Absolutely not. He must come with us now. Step aside," Sentinel Prime said._

_"No. I'm not entrusting him to a bunch of lunatics!"_

_"It's not your decision."_

_"I never had this!"_

_"You were never _Prime_," Nova replied coldly._

_"What's the difference between us? We're brothers!" Megatron spat, starting to lose control over his anger._

_"He is a-"_

_Nova interjected, cutting over Sentinel. "He's _going _to be."_

_"Not my point! One little _marking_? You can't just-" The young mech searched for words desperately. "-put so much pressure on him! He doesn't even know what's going on! He's a sparkling, for Primus's sake! At least let him live a normal life until he can understand all of this!"_

_"There is no time. The training to become a Prime must start immediately," Sentinel Prime stated. "There is much to be done, and you have delayed this enough already."_

_"Consider yourself lucky we aren't pressing kidnapping charges on you when you removed Optimus from Iacon City, after receiving specific orders to keep him there," Nova Prime added shortly._

_"What if he doesn't want to be Prime? What if he doesn't want any of this? It should be someone who __chooses to be Prime, not someone who was born with one small marking!" the young silver mech exclaimed. "We both are descended from the Dynasty of Primes! Why can't it be me, so Optimus can lead a normal life?"_

_"Megatron," a third mech started._

_"What?" he replied, turning to glare at him._

_Alpha Trion looked at him, almost sadly. "We all know you are older, stronger, wiser, and much more powerfully built."_

_Megatron frowned slightly, but otherwise remained silent._

_"_We_ wanted you to be the next Prime as well. You seem like a much better candidate than your brother. It isn't your fault," he quickly added. "It's just that he was born with the marking of a Prime, meaning it is _his_ destiny, not yours. Maybe Optimus will grow into it. Maybe he'll surprise us."_

_"If you love Optimus, you will let him go through with his destiny. Please, let him come with us peacefully," Sentinel Prime said, stepping forward._

_Megatron's narrowed optics took them all in turn- pausing on each, meeting their gazes with ease. Was he searching for clemency? Was he ensuring they knew how unreasonable this was? Truthfully, he didn't know._

_A low growl escaped his vocaliser, and the others bristled, Ultra Magnus stepping forwards._

_"I don't want to hurt you."_

_Megatron's growl deepened, warping into a snarl as he tensed. "You-"_

_Optimus whimpered, clinging to his chassis fearfully- the tiny sound snapped through the air, and Megatron blinked before remembering the sparkling was present._

_Nova had the gall to leer. "_Now_, Megatron."_

_Conceding- reluctantly, disgusting himself- Megatron looked down at his terrified brother. "You're going to be leaving with them, okay?"_

_"Will you come too?"_

_"I'm sorry, Optimus, but I can't. These mechs will help you grow big and strong, like me. You'll be fine," he added, seeing the sparkling's distraught face and struggling to control his festering rage, "I promise. Now be brave for me, and go with them."_

_"Megsy!" Optimus cried desperately. "Don't want to!"_

_Steeling himself, Megatron hesitantly placed his brother in Sentinel's waiting arms. He tried to ignore the squeak of protest Optimus gave him, but there was no way to deny the sorrow in his Spark._

_"We will take good care of him, Megatron," Alpha Trion assured. And with that, the four mechs turned to leave. With wide optics, Optimus shifted in Sentinel's arms to look back at his brother and reached a small arm out to him. Noticing this behavior, Sentinel turned the sparkling back. "You're in for a new adventure, Optimus. No time to dwell on the past." _

* * *

Megatron watched his brother go through the training to become Prime. Oh, he _watched_. Anxiously at first- hoping the younger mech could succeed- no, not succeed. _Triumph_- prove all those who dared to doubt him wrong. He watched as Optimus continually performed worse than he should have done- whether on purpose or because the younger truly didn't understand, he didn't know. But inside, Megatron could not deny that he _did _know- knew with _all_ his being; body and Spark- that it should have been _his_ title. He just _knew_ he'd be better than his sparkling brother, but that knowledge didn't help him become Prime. Over time he convinced himself that it was because Optimus was born that he didn't get the title. He believed it was his brother's very _existence _that caused him to be turned down for Prime. Eventually this resentment overtook the love he had for his brother, hardening his Spark and eventually intensifying, spreading until it overtook his entire being as well. The silver mech had done everything- _anything_- possible to show the elders he was more fit for being Prime than his smaller sibling. But no matter what he did, he was sent away. "_Only one Prime was foreseen in this time,"_ they told him. _"That one is Optimus, not you. Even if he hadn't been born, you are still without the marking. I'm sorry, Megatron. You can never be Prime. It is something that you cannot change." _

Megatron did not end his efforts so easily. _Could _not. He thought that if he could prove he was better than his brother in every way, they would give him the title. How could they not? To do so would be failing their entire race. The silver mech quickly became one of the strongest Cybertronians of the age and had done everything just short of killing his brother to show his superiority- and _still_ the title of Prime was withheld from him. What _more _was there to do? Almost as if sensing his sheer outrage, Alpha Trion presented him with the title of "Lord High Protector," and even gave him control of the military in hopes of placating the obsessed mech. But that was probably their biggest mistake. It gave Megatron no little pleasure to recall how easy it had been to recruit to his cause; there had been mechs baying for the Dynasty's corrupt energon beneath their very olfactory processors- and the blind fools had not even noticed. Of course, he _had_, and he was still of the dynasty- maybe some would call him a traitor for turning against his family. Megatron would have named _them _traitors for denying him his rightful place.

He still remembered the battle of Tyger Pax- and _despite _losing the AllSpark, a contented smile instantaneously formed on his face. The satisfaction- no. _**More**_. The pure, righteous elation that had consumed him from destroying two of the remaining Primes would never fade. _Could_ never fade. Their faces did not haunt him; no-! He welcomed them. He vividly remembered the anger on Nova's face when he attacked, remembered how easy it was to overtake the aging Prime. And then there was the shock on Sentinel's face, the sheer horror bringing overwhelming joy to Megatron even _now_, even after so much time had passed. He too was easily dispatched, leaving only one Prime in his way--Optimus.

The Decepticon leader's smile quickly twisted into a scowl. Optimus...the weakest and smallest of all Primes. The least-worthy of carrying the title and yet the only one to survive. His survival was due only to sheer luck and the insufferable incompetence of Megatron's own followers. This, he swore, would end. _Now_.

"Starscream, get out here!" he growled.

There was a brief pause before the Seeker appeared from the wreckage. Starscream, Megatron mused, was always either right by his side or keeping a cautiously and decidedly safe distance.

"Yes, Lord Megatron?" Starscream asked. He made to bow--

"Spare me the theatrics, cretin," Megatron snapped impatiently, turning to face his subordinate. However flattering, such actions were not of urgency. "Do you know what brought us to this position of complete humiliation?"

Starscream stepped back slightly at the sight of his commander... more accurately, his commander's face. He had left himself in disrepair, not deigning to disclose any reason to the Seeker- but nonetheless it was extremely intimidating.

"No, master, I do not," Starscream answered.

"**Incompetence**, Starscream!" Megatron shouted. "We are here, hiding like cowards, barely surviving while Prime and his Autobots are living in luxury on that giant mudball, because of _**incompetence**_!" He paused slightly before continuing his rant. "And do you know who is to _blame_ for this incompetence?" the mech asked, the one optic he had left narrowing.

"N-no, master..."

"YOU!" Megatron roared, whacking the Seeker across the face. "You are completely USELESS to the Decepticon cause, to _me_! You did _nothing_ in the two years I was incapacitated! What army did you manage to spawn? _**None**_; they all perished! You did not gather the Decepticons to rally together and rise against the Autobots, you did nothing to find me after the battle was over- you did _nothing_, Starscream!"

Starscream hissed softly at both the blow and the words, turning back to face his leader with something _different_ smouldering within his spark. It was not new to him at all, true-! but the feeling rose, bitter and unbidden as he contemplated how long these _failures_ had continued; rising until he could stand it no longer. With a bearing dangerously akin to that of audacity- and _fairly_ secure in the thought that Megatron could not kill him- after all, there were limited assets available- he dared to confront the other. "And what did _you_ do? We rushed in as ever, no plans made!"

"Would you like to continue," Megatron asked icily after a purposefully elongated silence, "or would you care to realise that _you_ should have been making those strategies-?"

It almost wasn't a question; the commander clearly did not expect an unfavourable response-and why should he? Yes, the Seeker had never been known for being _well-behaved_, but he usually knew when to yield.

"You cannot blame _me_ alone for the defeat," Starscream retorted, a fist clenching. "Surely _you_ are culpable-! ...You _are _the leader, are you not?"

"If that was your feeble interpretation of a _challenge_," the larger mech responded, his own fury swelling, "you had better retract it immediately and thus receive a considerably lighter punishment."

"Where," Starscream demanded- _knowing _he had passed his boundaries, but caring little for it- "_where_ is the Megatron I swore fealty to-? All I see now is a coward; a coward who blames others for his mistakes and takes orders from a- a decrepit old psychopath!"

The lonely optic of the tyrant narrowed hatefully, holding him captive for several moments; long enough to allow fear to rise. Starscream, growing more uneasy, tensed almost invisibly.

Megatron was very still- _too_ still. He was never so motionless, and this was unnerving enough. Abruptly enough to startle the Seeker, he began to _laugh_- slow, deliberate, contemptuous.

Starscream bared his fangs with a growl, temper mounting at the derision; the rumbling, powerful sound mocked and unsettled him.

The smooth barkings of laughter continued as Megatron turned away.

Roused, bewilderment now adding to his fury, Starscream's talons clenched tightly. "You owe me _that _answer at least!"

No response; no action, no vitriolic words.

"You are the most _pathetic _excuse of a leader I have ever had the misfortune to encounter!" The Seeker raged, fury near-on choking him.

_Again_, nothing. This was not normal.

"Will you _listen_?!" Starscream shrieked desperately, considering blasting him.

Megatron continued to gaze in the opposite direction, and Starscream knew his ruined face would be almost undecipherable- and probably would be to anybody else. But after so long in his presence, Starscream _knew_ Megatron. There were only the rarest of occasions on which he had no idea what the silver mech was thinking.

"Do not ignore me!" The smaller Decepticon demanded irately, verging on his self-control snapping. Then, with a sudden snort, he shook his helm. "What should I care? I may as well be an Autobot for all the work that's going on around here. Just waiting, waiting- and for _what_? I'm going _insane_-!"

No comments were even made on said insanity, which further unnerved and confused him. The only thing left to do, Starscream realised with trepidation, was to challenge the other for leadership. This, as so far, was an _unfailing_ way to attract attention- not that he did it often at all. _That_ would be very unwise. On the very rare and distant occasions this had occurred, Megatron had made certain he had not been terminated- but ensured his desires had not gone unpunished. "_I _would have succeeded," he hissed venomously, slashing an arm through the air for emphasis. "I would not be mooching around with half of a _face_, defeated and humiliated by my sparkling brother and his _pet_!"

Utter silence descended- yet no sign of even _mild _anger from the commander. Rage slowly dissipated; _useless _in the face of such unusual behaviour, and no satisfaction could be gained from such impassivity.

Starscream finally fell silent, proud wings sinking down from their usual position. Considering the downright spiteful things he had said, it might be that Megatron was waiting for an apology. Nervously, he crept closer. "...Lord Megatron?"

Yet again, there was utterly nothing. It was as if the tyrant had died and just remained standing without noticing.

Hand originally reaching out to touch the mech's arm, the Seeker retracted it with a soft whine.

"Starscream," Megatron began quietly.

Quietly was never good. _Megatron quietly_ had a different meaning to any other being. _Megatron quietly_ was more like saying _Megatron is thoughtfully considering how best to rip you apart_ _and inflict maximum agony_.

Starscream began to inconspicuously move backwards- but the tyrant firmly took hold of his arm with a speed that, quite frankly, was alarming. Feeling the pressure on the limb, he unwillingly returned to his former place.

"Why did you move?" Megatron asked, composed and unruffled.

"The calm comes before the storm," the Seeker replied after a beat, deciding on the truth. This new mood would not last long.

The commander laughed briefly, then continued darkly. "How very true. Humans have such _apt _phrases, don't you think? ...I don't think you're pulling your weight, and you do rub me up _quite _the wrong way. Remind me why you're here."

"I could go?" Starscream tried desperately.

"I did not _say_ that!" Megatron snarled, temper cracking through and tightening his grip on the other's arm. "What _good_ are you if you insist on cowardice-!"

"I can change," the Seeker begged, knowing pain would be shortly forthcoming. "I can, my lord-!"

"You have said that many times before and _still _you are nothing but a coward. Why should I believe you this time, Starscream?" Megatron growled, glaring at the cowering mech before him.

"Because I...I can..."

"Silence!" The Decepticon commander shouted, throwing a well-placed backhand to the Seeker's face. The force of the blow thrust the subordinate backwards- he hit and sprawled on the ground several meters away. "This is your _final _chance to show me some courage, Starscream," he continued, one clawed hand clenching. "Our faction is synonymous with power, mercilessness and _dread-!_ Fear is not instilled by such pathetic beings as your current self. _Confidence_. Get it, or face the eternal consequence."

"Yes, my liege," Starscream replied, exerting all the self-control he could rally and managing not to stutter. The Seeker regarded his master once more, and decided if he were to show any courage at all, it would be to continue his questioning. Would he be in for more pain? Without doubt- but if nothing else, it would demonstrate his immediate endeavours to fulfil Megatron's requirements. "Lord Megatron, you never answered me before. At what point did you commence not answering to yourself? At what _point,"_ Starscream spat, fury rekindling, "did you, an _icon_-! cower away from your- your very nature? When did the Decepticons unknowingly start respecting the orders forced upon them by some hidden being? We only _followed_ such direction because of you! If _you_ believed in the Fallen, so did we! How could you have done it? You- you betrayed your own cause!"

"You are truly naive," Megatron sneered, "if you think that I would kneel to _anyone_. Especially, _especially_ that delusional, ancient scrap heap."

"You _did_-!" Starscream began, confusion irking him further.

"It is of _no_ surprise to me that you are oblivious if the Fallen himself was deceived. Do you really think _I, __**M**__**e**__**g**__**a**__**t**__**r**__**o**__**n**__, _could be content under someone?"

The Seeker blinked, realisation slowly beginning to dawn. "But you did nothing a-"

Megatron snorted. "You think I would just allow _Optimus_ to come back from the dead?"

Wide-opticed, Starscream regarded him in hushed awe. ".._._Only a _Prime _could defeat the Fallen_-_!" The Seeker thought for a moment, and his optics narrowed slightly, spotting an inconsistency. "But why, oh wise master, did you try so hard to stop the boy from reaching Prime?"

"If I had let him go freely even that decrepit fool would have noticed. I had to keep up that facade just long enough for the Fallen to..._fall_," the larger Decepticon sneered, an evil grin curling on his face.

It finally hit Starscream, and he gazed upon his master as if seeing him for the first time. "So this was all..."

With a snap of his fangs, the commander both acknowledged and dismissed the truth. "And now I am released from my _servitude_." The last word was mocking, scornful. "I do suppose I _owe _Optimus something. A _relatively _quick termination, perhaps."

Starscream regarded him suspiciously- _hopefully_. "Then we are not undone?"

"_Undone_?" Megatron repeated incredulously. "This is but a fraction of the price I had expected to pay. This is simply the beginning of a new era."

"You have a plan?"

"There has only ever been _one,_" the bigger mech snapped. "And for the first time, Optimus and Optimus _alone_ attempts to stand in the way."

"And the rest of his Autobots," Starscream disagreed.

Megatron's snarl rippled out from his vocal processor. "They are of little consequence."

"That's alright for _you_ to say," the Seeker refuted daringly. "It isn't you who has to hold them off when you're fighting with Prime."

"I had no _idea_ holding off such weak Autobots was a problem for you, Starscream," Megatron replied dangerously, a malicious grin forming on his face. "Perhaps you'd like to take Prime on instead while I deal with the others?"

Starscream was stuck. If he said yes, then Megatron would definitely have him fight Prime on his own, and he _really _didn't want to do that. For reasons he could not fathom, the already formidable Prime had recently become infinitely more of a threat- _especially_ when the survival of the fleshlings was concerned. But if he said no, it would present itself as cowardice to Megatron- and that was the _last_ thing the Seeker wanted. Thinking quickly, he came up with a response that he hoped wouldn't bring much pain.

"Thank you, my liege, but I think the honor of defeating a Prime resides with you and you alone," Starscream formulated carefully, alert for any abuse headed his way.

"_Indeed, _Starscream, it is," Megatron mused, lost in thought. Starscream could hardly believe his luck.

"If one defeats a Prime, one is _clearly _more powerful than them- and deserving of the title," the commander continued. "_Their_ line is as much a part of me as it is of Optimus- could anyone else have such a righteous claim? And I, the elder, was _denied_! ...Yet even after defeating _three _Primes, I still have not earned the title. Perhaps there is more to be done than just sheer dominance."

"What do you mean, Lord Megatron?"

The stronger Decepticon didn't answer, only stared angrily -almost _longingly_- at the planet where his brother resided.

Megatron had another unspoken reason for allowing Optimus to return to life; one other than defeating the Fallen- and after all, who was there to admit it to?

He did not understand. He did not understand why Optimus was irrevocably Prime. It seemed that there was something else to it; something he had looked over, had missed. Perhaps something subtle, or merely unthought of- and either way there was only one thing left to do. One thing Megatron had never let himself even consider, the one boundary he- murderer, traitor, merciless tyrant- had never overstepped.

Yes: if the solution did not lie in defeating Optimus, perhaps the answer lay in his brother's very Spark.

"If we are to defeat the Autobots, we must take away their source of strength--we must take _Optimus_ away from them. Without their precious leader-their core, their inspiration-! they will crumble, leaving us an easy conquest," Megatron finally stated, his lonely optic burning with desire.

"And how will we accomplish such a feat?" Starscream asked before he could stop himself.

"Have _faith_ in me, Starscream," Megatron growled, turning on his subordinate. "Did I not tell you that all this- _all_ that has happened- is part of the plan?"

"Yes, my liege. Of course," the Seeker replied quietly, bowing. "Forgive my moment of insolence."

"You must first show me you are worthy of being forgiven."

A short silence hung heavily over the motionless scene, preceding Megatron's final threat.

"You _will_ _not_ question me again," Megatron thundered lowly, each word heavily laden with menace. He did not need to say any more.

Starscream inclined his helm slightly, optics fiercely blazing.

"Contact Soundwave. There will be no mistakes this time."

* * *

**_Diego Garcia_**

The powerful purr of a Camaro in the distance presented itself to the keen audio receptors of Sideswipe, who was definitely _not_ planning a prank with his brother. "Sunny-! Hear that?"

The golden Corvette listened. "...Bumblebee!"

"And Bumblebee means Sam!"

"_Finally,_" Sunstreaker crowed, diving smoothly into a transformation and speeding in the direction of the runway.

Just as Sideswipe started to follow, Prowl's voice suddenly made itself very clear over the communications channel. _**//**__Autobots, Bumblebee and his charge have arrived. Do not- I repeat- do __**not **__all thrust yourselves upon them. Sam in particular needs time to adjust, and being surrounded by imposing and colossal aliens is not what I would describe as normal for a human.__**//**_

_**//**__Couldn't have put it better myself,__**// **_came Prime's instantly recognisable tones. //_Do not stare at him and make him uncomfortable. In fact, leave him be until he __**himself**__ decides he is ready._//

_**//**__No problem, Prowlie, Prime,__**// **_Sunstreaker replied, amusement clear as he continued driving without even the faintest hesitation whatsoever.

_**//**__Oh no, what's this?__**// **_Sideswipe gasped.

//_You have the same problem as me, Sides?_//

//_I guess so, if your problem is that you just __**can't **__decelerate and you have no control over your steering,_// the silver Corvette replied as he expertly wove between some stunned yet unsurprised NEST soldiers.

**//**_Where could we __**possibly**__ be headed?_**//**

**//**_**Boys**__,_**// **Prowl began ominously. /_/Did you hear what I said?/_/

**//**_For sure, Prowlie.// _Sideswipe responded as he took a corner sharply. _//But we simply can't do anything about this malfunction__**.**_**//**

**//**_Guess we should all be lucky that it's __**only**__ us with this problem.// _Sunstreaker added as he swiftly headed for the last obstacle preceding the runway. _//I guess Sam won't be too overwhelmed. __**Horror-**__! There's a building in the way!_**//**

//_I guess we'll have to drive through the corridors_, _Sunny.//_

The golden Autobot shot through the wide doorway and rocketed down the relatively narrow space.//_Good thing we've had a lot of practice at this sort of thing, or somebody could get hurt.//_

Ratchet's voice suddenly cut in. _//I can guarantee somebody's going to get hurt. Two obnoxious somebodies.//_

**//**_Don't be so harsh towards Mudflap and Skids,_**// **Sideswipe reprimanded, the joyous feeling in his systems overwhelming any sinister portents.

//_Oh, haha, very funny,// _Ratchet commented. _//Too bad we sent those two imbeciles off on a __**special **__'mission', leaving only one pair of obnoxious somebodies behind- who are they again? Ah, yes. You two_._//_

//_Ratchet, be sure to give Sunstreaker and Sideswipe a thorough examination due to this..."malfunction,"// _Prowl said in a private link to the medic. //_You are free to use any method you deem necessary.//_

//_Understood, Prowl, understood_,// Ratchet replied, taking off after the Twins. This was going to be fun.

The familiar sight of Bumblebee's Camaro form was waiting at the front of the plane by the stairs, where a slight and lone human figure was descending.

Both brothers transformed, losing no speed as they skated right at them. "Is it _him_?"

"Yes," Sideswipe joyfully replied, skidding niftily to a halt just beside Bumblebee. "That is _Sam_!"

"SAM!" Sunstreaker roared, going for a slightly more personal greeting and flipping _over_ the stairs, waving manically as he did so.

Sam ducked down with a strangled cry and ended up rolling down the stairs, the sharp edges digging into his body.

Enraged, Bumblebee halted his fall with a gentle hand and glared accusingly at the twins. "_Why'd you have to make us so uptight?_"

Sideswipe winced remorsefully. "Don't look at me. That was all _Sunny_."

Bumblebee's look clearly informed him that Ratchet would hear of this.

Almost as if he were psychic, Ratchet sent a private message to the yellow scout. //_Sunstreaker and Sideswipe will be taken care of, Bumblebee. You can count on it_.//

Satisfied with this information, Bumblebee turned towards the task of shielding Sam as much as possible from the Terrible Two.

"'bee? Am I safe?" Sam peeped over the Autobot's hand, deducing that they weren't under attack. "I mean, seriously, please cut down on the... whatever that was? It's just not that pleasant- I haven't even technically gotten off the plane yet and I'm being jumped at- who was that golden one-"

"I'm sure you've heard so much about me," Sunstreaker declared, presenting himself formally and flamboyantly to the human. "Try not to feel subdued by my general beauty; I know it gets nearly everybody down."

Bumblebee's optics flicked to the side in a definite sigh.

"What do you think? Tell me," the golden twin commanded, shifting rapidly into his alternate form and revving loudly.

Sam eyed the Autobot with trepidation. "...Very shiny?"

"Damn straight I'm shiny." The voice unexpectedly glided out from the Corvette's speakers, and Sam jumped, ducking back behind Bumblebee's hand. "Hear that, Sides? Sam said that I'm shiny. He hasn't called _you_ shiny."

"I've also known him for an entire earth year longer, so I've gotten that many more compliments than you," Sideswipe retorted.

"Not for long, brother!" Sunny replied smugly. "Sam will soon see that I am the better of us!"

The silver twin was about to counter- in a naturally ingenious and cunning manner- when movement caught his optic. Sideswipe stared at the fast-approaching Hummer with anxiety. Meanwhile, an oblivious Sunstreaker- now in bipedal form- continued expressing his superiority, ignorant to the danger.

"Sunny..."

"No use trying to argue with me, the truth always wins--"

"_Sunny..._" Sideswipe repeated, more urgently this time.

"...What?" the golden twin asked, noticing that his brother was not paying attention to him.

"I think we should go."

"Huh? But we just got here! Why should we leave so soon?"

"Ratchet."

"What about him--oooh," Sunny replied, finally catching sight of the Hummer. "Um, nice to meet you, Sam! But I really must be going, I have a full day and all--"

He was dragged away from the stunned teenager by Sideswipe, who took off at a run and smoothly transformed into his alt mode. His golden brother was not far behind him.

Sam watched them disappear possibly faster than they had come. "'bee, what's happening?"

"_Flee, flee for your lives!_" Bumblebee responded, removing his hand from around Sam and straightening. "_Oh creator of us all, the Doctor is coming!_"

The teenager hadn't caught sight of Ratchet and exhaled forcefully through his nose in reply. "You lot are just _so_ weird sometimes." Rising to his feet, Sam continued down the stairs, pausing momentarily once he reached the ground. "Do you know where my suitcase we-"

Bumblebee chirped, indicated with yellow digit the base of the stairs where some luggage sat, and then pointed at his aft before transforming.

"What-? Oh, in you?" Deciding manual labour could be more beneficial, Sam grabbed his suitcase- it had _wheels_ on it anyway- and started trundling away. "It's fine, 'bee, I'll walk to where-"

The Camaro hooted in disagreement, tires spinning as he accelerated forwards to cut the human off.

"No, I want to walk!" Sam insisted, jerking his suitcase in the adjacent direction. "You are not taking me anywhere. If I had a choice between staying on that plane any longer and going up against Megatron with a screwdriver, the latter would be seriously tempting. I would like to _walk_."

To his credit, Bumblebee didn't even flinch and simply followed him centimetre by centimetre. "_I could bake a chocolate cake for you with tiers up to the moon_," his speakers cried softly.

"No, you couldn't," the teenager replied shortly. "That would be impossible."

"_You should be the one I'll always love,_" the Autobot persisted, pulling up alongside him.

"_Bumblebee_!" Sam sighed, exasperated. The door popped open, and he was about to give in when the unmistakable outline of Optimus Prime appeared from around a building. "Hey, look; check out our welcoming committee."

The Autobot Commander crossed to them, then bent down on one knee. "Greetings, Sam. It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Hey, big guy! How's it going? You know, being alive, it suits you," Sam rushed awkwardly, still slightly awed by the colossal being.

I hope your flight was untroubled."

"No, no crazy aliens," Sam replied mindlessly. "Not that I saw- but mind you, didn't some Decepticon actually hack into Air Force One? I mean, surely that has the best security?"

"That was a considerable while ago in terms of human and Autobot alliances. Superior measures are now in place, and _your _safety is one of our top priorities. No harm will come to you." His optics fixed for a moment at something in the distance. "I trust Sunstreaker and Sideswipe did not give you too much strife?"

"They were friendly enough," Sam mumbled.

"_Friendly enough_- in this scenario serving as 'scarily and hyperactively entering your personal space'," Optimus somehow uncannily concluded, full attentions now on him. "Do not worry; Ratchet will have words with them."

Bumblebee's engine purred in a tone that Sam had come to recognise as satisfied.

"I fear that we have no time for further pleasantries," Prime continued. "A matter of great importance awaits us."

Sam groaned. "Not another save the world thing, right? I mean, I've had two of those, and I'm really starting to feel pressure. You could find somebody else?"

"No, Sam. This isn't about saving the world: this time, we need to save the Universe," Optimus revealed solemnly.

The human's eyes expanded. "Noooooo-"

"I wasn't being serious," Prime hurriedly amended, hands waving once in apology.

"You- you need to work on your jokes," Sam managed to choke out.

"_Why so __**serious**__?_" Bumblebee asked.

"That's not funny!" Sam raged, flinging his suitcase to the ground in a manner pathetically immature. "What, you think it's funny? Maybe you _do_ save the world every day, but I don't!"

"I am sorry," Optimus firmly assured. "...We must go to the meeting. Bumblebee, Sam; if you would."

With an exasperated growl-sigh, Sam re-picked up his luggage and- after catching it once on the exterior- thrust it into the Camaro's interior before climbing in himself, grumbling.

* * *

"Hello, _boys,_" Ratchet said, grinning manically while pacing before them. "As you may have noticed, you're here to get that..._glitch_ of yours figured out, since it obviously interfered with your steering so badly..."

The Twins were cornered. They couldn't leave the medbay -and they sorely wanted to- not just because they were frozen in fear, or because Ratchet was in their escape path- but because the medic had actually gone through with just _one _of his threats to weld their afts to a berth. It hadn't been an easy feat, catching the two of the fastest mechs in the faction, but with some strategic planning from Prowl and backup from Ironhide, the silver and gold Corvettes found themselves utterly trapped.

"Now, seeing as this _glitch_ is so severe, it must reside in your core processors, which means a rather complicated and _painful_ surgery is needed...oh _no-! I_t seems like I'm out of sedative _and _painkillers, so you'll be awake for the _whole thing _and feel _every single incision_! That's just too bad, isn't it?"

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were unable to keep from shaking at the sight of the crazed CMO. "We _really _screwed up this time, Sunny," Sideswipe whispered to his brother, keeping one optic on Ratchet. He didn't trust the medic at all.

"Uh huh..." the golden Corvette replied, also keeping Ratchet in his sight. The medic was known for having a temper, but this, _this _was something the two had never encountered before--Pure, unadulterated _Ratchet Wrath._

"Uh, Ratchet, I really think that glitch is gone now...you see, I feel much better..." the silver twin started.

"Yeah, me too, Ratch. We feel fine..." Sunstreaker continued.

"So...if you could just unweld us from this berth, we'll be on our way..."

"Oh _no, _I can't do that, boys! As a medic I must not only discover the source of this glitch, but also make sure it _never happens again!_" Ratchet's optics gleamed with a very unnerving glint. "You're both getting that surgery, unless you can offer me proof that it did _not, _in fact, originate from your core processors."

The look Ratchet gave the Twins told them all they had to know: They were _busted._

"I'll- I'll tell you what it _did _originate from!" Sunstreaker blurted suddenly. "Alright, there was no glitch- _surprise_! We were just- just so _full _of concern for Sam- he just has such bad luck- we wanted to ensure that nothing happened to him, so we defied orders in a- frankly, in a iconic Autobot manner- for the greater good, endeavouring to get to his side as quickly as possible! We- we lied, but it was to aid Sam, so surely we can just be _unwelded _now?"

"Keep talking," Ratchet responded after a pause, flipping a wrench skilfully without even looking at it. The Twins' horrified optics were fixed on it. Ratchet's- if it was possible- glowed even brighter.

"Ratchet, please?" The golden twin pleaded quietly. "We're very sorry-"

"You know that I am the best medic the Autobots could possibly have," the CMO reminded suddenly. "In fact, I am _easily_ the best medic out of either faction."

"Yes, you are!" Sunstreaker instantly agreed, his brother nodding frantically.

"And you know _why_ I am the best medic?"

"Because- because you're amazing!" Sideswipe answered quickly. "We're so lucky!"

"You're incredible! A genius!" Sunstreaker added hastily.

"Hm. Thank you. But no, boys." The wrench flipped once, twice. "It is because I am _thorough_. I do not leave anything unfinished, and _nothing _escapes my notice." The medic began inspecting them visually. "Where _shall_ I begin?"

"Say, Ratchet-!" Sideswipe tried desperately, squirming under the hungry and threatening scrutiny. "Shouldn't you be at that meeting? Providing professional evidence and records of things? Your opinion is so- so highly valued!"

The wrench paused. "A valid point. Perhaps I will leave you here, _welded _to the berth and to the humiliation of any individual who happens to cross you." The medic turned and walked to a different part of the medbay. "Unfortunately there is still work that must be done before I can head off to that meeting." Ratchet looked over his shoulder. "_Stay_," he added with a short laugh.

Oh, the humiliation was all over their faces. Ratchet _loved_ his job.

Everybody needed to be notified.

* * *

Soooo...What do you all think?? :3 Feel free to ask questions; we will answer them to the best of our ability.

A few notes on this chapter...Sentinel Prime is actually not an aft like his Animated counterpart. Nova Prime is the aft, see. :D

And Kibble Beast and I were feeling exceptionally nice towards Ratchy. Couldn't you tell? :3


	4. Subtlety Is Not a Strong Point

Greeeeettings. :D

We have returned once more to fanfiction!

Actually, you can thank **Kibble Beast** for not only getting us started on this chapter, but with writing quite a bit of it.

The **bold** talking done here, in one small section, is the Autobots speaking in Cybertronian.

Side note--If you happen to notice a spot where the sentence abruptly cuts off, or seems like its missing a few words, please point it out for us to fix. Decep-top (my laptop) does this sometimes when I save large documents. . I tried to catch the ones I saw, but I may have missed some.

**UPDATE: **Kibble Beast found some tiny problems (that she absolutely went crazy over :P) and has notified me, and thus I have fixed them. :P And here I thought she wasn't going to be online for a few days.

As always, we own nothing.

* * *

Once again, Ratchet was concentrating on ventilating. Somebody had said it would make him feel calmer. Then again, they probably hadn't had to work with such _imbeciles._ How was it a genius could be so _irritating_? "_No_, Wheeljack," he hissed for the fortieth time. (_Oh, yes, he was counting. Optimus would know about this_.)

The inventor glanced up, pausing. "But Ratchet, I need to-"

"It's not going to _explode_!" the medic nearly howled, but controlled himself, merely twitching his fingers. "If anything is going to explode, it will be _you,_ because you wanted to find out _exactly _how flammable the natural gas on this planet is."

"But who would have guessed it?" Wheeljack replied, obviously excited and oblivious to Ratchet's building fury. "It just lit up so _easily_! You really should-"

"No," Ratchet replied shortly. "Move out of the way, it's my turn."

Wheeljack shifted slightly.

"More than that, you idiot. Let me _help_ you." Ratchet barged into the engineer's side, forcing him into some shelves that held the many strange, slightly creepy instruments Wheeljack had brought with him to Earth. The medic triumphantly took the now vacated space.

"Ratchet!" Wheeljack complained, instantly beside him again. "You could have made me drop the Matrix!"

"You weren't even _holding _it." The CMO narrowed his optics slightly, eyeing the artifact on the table. "And clean up that mess, would you?" he added. "What are those instruments even for, anyway? To anyone else this place would look like a torture chamber with all those..._things_."

Ignoring this request, Wheeljack stared almost adoringly at the Matrix."It's beautiful," the inventor sighed.

"It would be even more beautiful if we could figure it out."

"Well, it seems slightly more active today. It's practically vibrating with contained energy."

"Hoorah."

"...Perhaps I could perform a controlled explosion and-"

"You are _not_ exploding anything near this!"

The Ford wasn't deterred, and simply eyed the Matrix lovingly. "Oh, what I could _do_ with its energy."

"I'm going to show you _violent _energy in a moment." Ratchet picked it up pensively.

"I have an idea," Wheeljack cried. "Let's re-enact. I'll be Optimus, you be Sam, right?"

"What a fair deal," Ratchet witheringly replied. "Fine. Get on the floor and be dead."

The inventor enthusiastically lay down. "So, what happened?"

"Sam died. He came back as the Matrix reformed. Then he simply plunged it in _here_." Ratchet crouched down and tapped Wheeljack's chassis. "...We've been through this so many times- we can't have missed anything."

Wheeljack paused. "So Sam was holding it?"

"Yes. What of it?"

He frowned. "Nothing, really. But- didn't you conclude he had met with the Primes from what he said?"

"_Met_ isn't the word I'd use for a brief encounter, but yes."

"...And we both agree the Matrix is acting differently."

"We do agree, for once."

They contemplated it.

"Maybe we _should _talk to Sam again," Ratchet admitted, slowly standing and placing it back on the table. "He could be key to this."

"Can _I _talk to him?" Wheeljack practically begged as he sat up.

The CMO firmly placed a foot on his chassis, pushing him down roughly. "You'd want to touch him soon as look at him. No."

"But _you_ touch him!"

"For important medical examinations," Ratchet justified. "No human could possibly monitor his condition like I can."

"Come on," Wheeljack pleaded, hands clasped. "Just the once! I'm coming too!"

There was a desperate silence as the medic removed his foot.

"...Up," he commanded.

Wheeljack was a white blur. "Thank you, Ratchet! You won't regret-"

"You _aren't_ conducting the talk with Sam. I will deal with him because he knows me. _You_ might squash or kill him with some fiery blast. No, you can come to the meeting I must attend."

"Meeting?" Wheeljack repeated. "Meeting? Will there be humans?"

_Sometimes it felt like working with a dumb animal or child. No, even they had more intelligence. It was like working with an amoeba. Nobody else had to work with amoebae. _"_Yes_, Wheeljack. There will be lots of humans, and the boy may even be there."

"Lead the way!" the inventor cheered.

Ratchet had already left the room, but continued speaking. "_Matrix,_ Wheeljack. Will you put it somewhere _safe?_"

The Ford nodded eagerly. "Of course, Ratchet-!"

Of course, there wouldn't be any harm in bringing it to the meeting. Whilst Ratchet and everybody was talking, Wheeljack reasoned he could have a look at the enigma then. And there was _no_ place safer than with Wheeljack. Everybody said so.

The inventor carefully picked up the delicate artefact, then rearranged the right side of his chest armour so he could hide it underneath. He often stored important things there, like inventions, or odd things like _boxes_. Wheeljack liked _boxes_. Boxes were so versatile. You could put things in them, stack them up, even put them inside each other! What a _wonderful_ invention. However, the humans weren't to know about the Matrix, so hiding it from their view was a good plan. Although he didn't understand _why_ they weren't being told, Wheeljack was sure somebody would explain it to him. After all, the humans were a nice lot.

After checking the Matrix was safe and secure, Wheeljack hurried after Ratchet. "Wait for me-!"

"No," came a faint reply. "We're going to be late."

"But I don't know where I'm _going_!"

"That's the _point_."

Wheeljack couldn't understand it; how could a genius be so sour and grouchy? Clearly, all Ratchet needed was to be cheered up. This was Wheeljack's mission, and it _would_ be completed.

* * *

"So, 'bee- you know where we're going?" Sam's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he tried to work out which building they were following Optimus to.

_"Fozzy, look up ahead there," _Bumblebee instantly responded through the radio.

"Real helpful. That's where I'm looking," the human huffed, then threw himself back into the seat. "I give up. Who the hell said that, anyway? Who _is _Fozzy?"

Bumblebee revved mysteriously, then headed through a hangar entrance after the huge flamed semi.

"We _there _yet?"

_"We'll get there when we get there!"_

Sam was triumphant. "..._That _was Mr Incredible."

_"Booooooooob,"_ a man growled.

"Yeah, same person. Bob _is_ Mr Incredible." Sam looked around with renewed inquisitiveness as Bumblebee slowed, passing through another opening.

Optimus was already transforming as the Camaro's door popped open.

Sam remained inside for a moment, peering out of Bumblebee's windshield: he was determined for _once_ to not be taken by surprise by anything- well, as much was Sam-ly possible. No doubt an unprecedented _something_ would burst in his direction. Never mind; at least he could be prepared for _this_ room.

Big room, check. Large enough for Optimus to be standing up in, which was precisely what he was doing.

Big table kind of in the middle (but really, Sam concluded after further musing, was actually much closer to the other side) of said big room, check.

A couple- (no, two. Now was no time to be inaccurate) two other, _smaller_ tables in the other corners of the room.

Lots of important looking people around said tables, check.

Couldn't anything be done in smaller sizes around here?

One corner left- Sam hurriedly glanced to his left and saw Optimus standing in it, peering intently at somebody on a walkway who was gesturing excitedly at him.

Sam closed his eyes, swallowing. "I shouldn't be here. Could we go now? Will the plane still be there? I'm sure they won't mind taking us back, like, now?" He shook his head slightly, voice suddenly tiny. "...Oh, 'bee. I really don't know what I'm doing here. I can't do this."

"_I believe in you, Peter. And I know you'll find a way to put it right." _Bumblebee's engine rumbled softly as his voice clips changed. "_I want you to know I'm... I'm here for you if you need anything_."

"...Thanks, 'bee. You're the best." Sam felt a slight surge of courage. Besides- if this whole ambassador thing didn't turn out, they could always find somebody else. That was the good thing about being a human. There were plenty to take your place. He hesitated for a moment, preparing himself for whatever was to come with a huge breath- because this was just what everybody did. You know, always breathe deeply, an extra large one before you do something unthought of. He was calm, he was cool, he w-

"Sam!"

"Lennox-!" the young man cried, startled into almost tripping out of Bumblebee and staring at the figure rapidly approaching. "You're here too!"

"...I do work here most of the time." Lennox reached him, giving a slight smile of greeting before remembering something and rootling in a pocket. "I've got something for you."

"It isn't an Allspark, is it?" Out of the corner of his eye, Sam managed to glimpse Optimus shifting slightly. He turned, narrowing his eyes and trying to hide his amusement. "Yeah, I'm watching you. _All_ of you. I'm not saving the world today."

Prime huffed, then continued his conversation with the awestruck humans on the walkway.

"Pockets, pockets, pockets," Lennox grumbled, finally finding what he was looking for and handing it to Sam. "Visitors pass. For now, anyway- depends on how much you like all this."

"I only ever wanted to be normal," Sam mildly complained as he clipped it onto his shirt.

"Well, I see normality got you this far, so come on- I'll show you where you're at." He began to walk with Sam back the way he had come. "I bet you got questions already."

"Back to the previous point; you're a soldier," Sam was sure of a flaw in this whole Lennox-being-here. "Why are you here and not- not shooting at things?"

The Major paused before replying, clearly trying to think of how best to reply. "This is where NEST is based. We don't have... _things_ _to shoot at_ all of the time- much to Ironhide's regret."

"Poor thing." Sam felt a smile twitch at his mouth.

They reached the table, and he nodded nervously at a few curious faces.

"Seat," Lennox pointed.

Sam lowered himself into the indicated object anxiously. He usually only saw the soldier just before/during/after some kind of massive battle- and if he had thought Lennox was calm before, the indescribable, untouchable air of effortlessness about the man now was striking; ease came naturally to him. How exactly he also permanently radiated a readiness for action was one of those peculiar paradoxes.

Sam suddenly realised Lennox was talking to him, and hurriedly snapped back to reality.

"Conference," he was explaining. "You don't have to say anything. In fact, don't. Just watch and learn, alright?"

Eternally grateful, Sam nodded ferociously. "So-"

" So say _nothing_. At most, all you're going to do is just be taking it all in- how we do these things, who people are, that sort of thing. You'll be with me," he quickly added, "so relax." He gave Sam's shoulder a manly slap.

Sam tried not to flinch, merely grinning like a fool (in an attempt at mature, manly thanks).

"Right." Lennox waved away some eager male with a headset and clipboard, then sat down next to Sam. "See the screen?"

Sam blinked at the large, transparent object in the middle of the table. "Pretty much."

"That's where some other people are going to appear," he said slowly.

"But what about people on the other side? They won't be able to see."

"Look again," Lennox said mysteriously. "It's see-through, right? The same image can be seen from both sides, just in reverse."

Sam blew air through his cheeks. "That's seriously cool."

" See that little- webcam lookalike thing _there_?"

"...No."

" Just- just _there." _He discreetly indicated at its location with an eye movement.

"Ah, yes."

Ironhide suddenly entered through another doorway (presumably this one led to some other buildings; there was definitely a corridor on the other side), bringing an odd smell with him.

Lennox immediately wrinkled his nose. "You've been shooting things again."

The black Autobot casually stomped his way over in three steps. "...And?"

" And you _reek_ of explosives," the soldier continued, eyes crinkling in teasing amusement. "You're absolutely disgusting."

"You're just upset you weren't there," Ironhide retorted. "It was a highly interactive session." He rotated his cannons once before retracting them, his blue gaze falling on Sam. "Obviously you managed to arrive without bringing trouble for once."

Was that Ironhide caring? Sam smiled, and was about to respond when the Autobot continued.

"Can't wait to make a man out of you. You'll be diving and blasting at slaggers like the rest of-"

A suddenly standing-right-behind-them Optimus smoothly intervened with what Sam assumed was some Cybertronian, and Ironhide threw a cannon-toting arm out, audibly ventilating.

Prime eyed Sam. "Major Lennox has sufficiently enlightened you?"

" Um, not everything in the whole world, that would take a long time- a very, _very_ long time, but this, right now, here-? Yes, I think."

"You don't have to do anything," Optimus assured. "We're not thrusting you into anything. You can just sit with the Major-"

" And watch the big boys _play_," Ironhide cut in.

"So- so what are you doing?" Sam asked.

Prime blinked. "I'm going to be just here."

" He gets his _own_ camera," Lennox noted with a wry smile, jabbing a finger at the walkway.

The male with the clipboard he had waved off earlier burst out, clearly unable to control himself. "There's no possible way to get all of you in the shot! It would be totally insane- either you'd have to be up there, or we'd have to get it to come down here-"

Sam frowned. "It?"

The techie was a little startled to be cut off mid-flow. "...Is there a problem?"

" Who are you calling _it_?" Sam demanded.

"Oh, not you!" the other enthused. "The giant robot!"

Sam felt his eyes narrow. "No, no. You don't understand me- or maybe I don't understand you. For a moment there, I thought you called Optimus an 'it'."

"But-"

He stood, almost _feeling _blood pulsing through his body. "Optimus Prime is not an- an _it_. Show him some respect; he isn't an object or- or a _machine_!"

The human-torn between bewilderment and alarm- hurriedly and uselessly gestured at his clipboard. "Sound- the sound's all good. I'll be gone now. Sorry." He fleetingly glanced up at the towering Autobot Commander and back to a fuming Sam, then almost ran back to his station.

"You didn't need to do that," Optimus said softly after a moment.

Oblivious to the mix of frowns belonging to the people nearby, a still bristling Sam flung himself back into his chair. "Yes, I _did_. If this is the way you're being treated, it's not right; it's going to change. That's what I'm here for, right? To bridge the gap? Well, I'm not going to just let people be ignorant of you." He glanced at Lennox, and caught the faintest trace of a bemused smile. "What?"

" You're... _different _to how I thought you'd be."

"What are you talking about? I haven't even done anything," Sam protested. "I-"

"Listen to me, kid." Lennox was quietly serious. "They'll think that because you're young, you're not good. You may not have as much life experience, but you damn sure do have courage, determination and luck- and they'll get you far. Not to mention a strange bond with our alien buddies."

"But-" Sam was suddenly reminded of Sharsky and Fassbinder. "What about hackers? Couldn't they- you know- hack in and see this feed-?"

"Not a chance," Ironhide gruffly responded. "Our technology is far superior to anything your race's most prominent could even fantasise about."

"...Thanks, Ironhide."

"Remember that we have had to deal with 'hackers' of our own people before," Optimus explained. "We have defences against such attacks, and these will be easily sufficient to guard against anything a human could possibly attempt."

"But what about yours? Couldn't one of the Decepticons be lurking-?"

"Even if they are," Prime answered with definite pride, "I am confident that there is ample security. The Autobots have been working tirelessly to upgrade these facilities."

"Ah, the meeting's due to begin soon," Lennox commented, looking at his watch. "Everyone else should be arriving about now."

Sure enough, more humans and Cybertronians entered the large meeting room and took their places. Admittedly, Sam didn't know very many of them at all, but he definitely remembered Master Sergeant Epps and Captain Graham. Ratchet, Wheeljack and Prowl also entered, taking their places in front of the camera they shared along with Ironhide.

"_You_," Ratchet said, glaring at the scientist beside him. "Stay quiet. We need to convince the government that we are _not_ useless, nor do anything life threatening, like _unexpected explosions._ Two things that tend to describe you quite _well."_

"You got it, Ratchet," Wheeljack replied happily, the insults literally sliding off him like water on a freshly waxed car.

"Alright, Sam, here we go," Lennox said, sitting down at the table next to him. Epps was on his other side, while Graham was on Sam's.

"Hey, Lennox," Epps whispered. "You hear about the punishment Ratchet gave the Twins?"

The other soldier grinned. "Hah, yeah. It's well worth seeing; one of the funniest things in a _long_ time!"

"Ah, haven't gotten a chance to head over to that hangar yet. Remind me to get over there as _soon _as this meeting ends. God, I _hate _meetings."

After a few minutes of fidgeting and camera-adjusting, the images of several important people appeared on the transparent screen, signalling the start of the conference.

"Good afternoon, Optimus, Will," General Morshower said in greeting, having become familiar with both.

"Good afternoon, sir." Lennox replied. "How is the cover-up for the world broadcast coming?"

"We've collaborated with the world's governments and have decided on an excuse."

"What's that, sir?"

"That we were working on a worldwide broadcast system in case of emergency, and some hacker thought it would be funny to hijack the system with a CGI alien talking about some random kid they chose."

"And how well is the general public buying that?" Lennox asked, lips twitching into a small smile.

"It's been difficult to get this story accepted, but we're seeing less and less uproar about it each day." The General then turned to Optimus. "How are your efforts coming?"

"We have intercepted several messages from Decepticons scattered across the globe, which have led to the downfall of two of them. They seem to know we're looking for them, and have taken greater measures to hide themselves more deeply."

The Vice President was less than thrilled to hear this news. "So you're telling us that the threat is _still_ not eradicated? After all of this investment?"

Sam saw Ratchet's fingers twitch slightly.

Optimus answered calmly. "Our war has endured for millennia. Perseverance and patience are two of the most valued features our race commands."

" And it's not getting you anywhere much," he replied shortly. "What exactly _will_ end it? You're supposedly far more intelligent than we are- I don't see it. When we humans war, we don't fight _forever_-"

"_You_ don't live forever_,_" Ratchet interjected, then paused. "With respect."

"So now you're immortal."

"Immortal, - with the factor of possessing the right resources met- yes." Ratchet paused again, optics brightening wickedly. "Bar a brutal death, which we have all become quite accustomed to. Even then, our luckiest get to return for a second shot at this life, and they can continue the violent cycle right where they left off."

Ironhide rotated his cannons loudly. "You just hate the fact that there's power beyond Ratchet."

"Shut-"

Optimus silently intervened with a warning look at them both.

"About that," a different man suddenly spoke up.

Sam glanced at the screen, then saw Lennox's lips twitch. Frowning, he mouthed at the soldier. "...What?"

" He's our favourite," Lennox replied quietly, then raised his voice to address the link. "It certainly _is_ good to see you looking so _well_, Galloway. Still got sand in those places sand shouldn't be?"

There was a slight murmuring of concealed laughter from some of the NEST soldiers at another table.

"Story of my life," Epps muttered.

Galloway shot Lennox a poisonous look, then returned his attentions to Optimus. "You died."

"I know," Prime replied.

The bureaucrat glowered. "And yet, you're alive _now_."

Optimus looked concerned. "Do you have some kind of condition, Director? You seem to be stating the obvious. Ratchet, perhaps you should-"

Galloway's entire face tightened. "No, robot. I do not have a condition. What I would like to know is this: if you died and returned to life, how did you do it? Couldn't every single one of your people do the same?"

"No," Prime replied shortly.

Reminded of the Matrix of Leadership, Sam wondered where it actually was. Not that he wanted to go near it- no more touching of alien stuff. No.

"But the leader of the Decepticons did it."

"I assure you that these were both unusual occurrences."

"And yet you will not specify the conditions under which they took place."

Optimus blinked slowly. "...As much as I- _we_- appreciate everything you have done for us, our race has sacred secrets that belong to Cybertronians alone."

"And if we demanded-"

"There are some things that we will not share," he replied firmly. "We do not ask you to explain everything mankind does or has done, nor do we expect it."

"Okay then," Galloway continued, knowing he had lost that particular battle.

There was a pause in which Sam realized he'd stopped breathing. He tried to discreetly begin again, but ended up sucking in too much air with a loud snort.

By the time he recovered from the humiliating embarrassment, the Director had continued to monopolize the conversation. "But as the leader of the Autobots, you are surely a target for the Decepticons, am I right?"

"You are correct," Optimus replied cautiously.

"Then what will happen when you are inevitably killed once again? Who will take command of the Autobots in your absence?"

"Prowl is Second in Command of the Autobots," Optimus informed. The tactician nodded slightly as Galloway glanced at him."If I should fall, leadership will be his."

"Until you come back to life again."

"It is highly unlikely that I will manage that."

"Command is shared between yourself and Major Lennox," Galloway instantly replied- as if he had been waiting for that response. "Am I right?"

"At present," Prime answered carefully.

" Well, when you _pass on_ the next time, Major Lennox will take over the NEST forces."

Lennox blinked, clearly stunned. "Are- are you insane? I can't do that-!"

" If _you_ can't do it, we'll have to draft somebody else in to hold your hand."

"Sir, with all due respect, I _won't_. Why would I? There's no advantage whatsoever."

Sam coughed- suddenly eyes were on him. "...Surely the point of an alliance is to work together? I mean, _with_ each other? Not trying to control the other half?"

"Who is that?" Galloway demanded after a moment.

"Change the subject, why don't you?" Ratchet countered.

About to answer, Lennox opened his mouth.

Sam got there first. "I'm nobody important. Just a visitor. See?" He tapped his badge, nodding. "But even I can see that you're talking absolute rubbish. Are you anal-retentive or something? What gives you the idea that you can simply order the Autobots around?"

Galloway stared blankly for a moment. "Did- did he just call me anal-retentive?"

"Yes, I did."

"Do you even _know_ who I am?"

"With all due respect, it doesn't matter. The Autobots invited me here, and I can see why. But I'm done with my point; carry on."

Utterly derailed, the stunned bureaucrat blinked at him.

"Perhaps he has realised his _proposition_ was completely idiotic," Ratchet suggested.

Prime was somewhat less aggressive. "Director Galloway, we simply cannot agree to that."

"You- well, not _you_- your _Autobots_ were perfectly happy to obey our orders without you in your death."

"And _only_ because there was no other clear and immediate way to remain on Earth and not be targets of the United States military," Ratchet replied, becoming venomous.

"Then why did you stay?" Galloway asked pompously.

"Are you seriously asking why we stayed and _saved_ your entire planet?"

Derailed once more, Galloway changed the subject. "But you said your obedience was to remain in good favor with us. Do you not want to remain allies in the wake of your leader's death?"

"Director Galloway, Optimus is neither dead nor incapacitated at this point. But if he ever were to be again, we would not take orders from you humans so readily. We were unprepared for his death last time. Jazz was Second in Command on Earth, and with his earlier death, we were left without leadership," Ironhide replied with a low growl, shifting his cannons irritably.

"And that has been taken care of," Ratchet added with a scowl. "We have made arrangements amongst ourselves for our chain of command. In the extremely unlikely event that both Optimus and Prowl should fall, Ironhide is next in line for command, followed by myself."

"Who takes command after you?" Galloway snapped, obviously displeased with this news.

"In complete honesty Director, should all four of us fall, you really have no chance of survival should the Decepticons attack. Naming a fifth successor would be useless."

"But you would still be acting against the wishes of the United States government! What about our alliance?"

"We are allies with more than just your country, Director. I feel as if they would be less inclined to agree with you if you had allowed them in on this meeting," Prowl stated.

While Galloway was trying to splutter out an excuse, Optimus took advantage of the opening in the conversation.

"I will not hand my people over to you as if they were possessions," the Autobot leader replied evenly.

"I don't see the problem," Galloway countered. "We have granted you asylum, and we're not being repaid."

"You realize that without the Autobots, we wouldn't even be alive to have a planet?" Sam muttered to himself. If Galloway heard, he chose to ignore it.

"Again, you are forgetting we are now formally allied with the United Kingdom, France, China, and Egypt as well, not to mention every world government knows of, and has not objected to, our presence," Prowl stated again, this time with slightly more force. "Just because you feel saving this planet is not enough compensation for our presence does not mean that they will feel the same way. If you no longer feel we deserve asylum with you, we will seek it with a different country."

"But that would be an act of betrayal! It would be treachery! It would be an act of war!" Galloway nearly shouted at the calm tactician.

"Let me stop you right there, Director," General Morshower said immediately. "Even if the President should agree to declare war on one of our allies for granting asylum to the Autobots after we have revoked it, not only would you have almost the entire world against you, but you would be hard-pressed to find the soldiers to fight."

Ratchet had had enough. "This 'conversation' has finished," he practically hissed.

Ironhide's cannons rotated, causing several suited members of the meeting to flinch. "I am inclined to agree."

"You are a danger to our country!" Galloway snapped, becoming further enthused. "You need order!"

"The only _danger_ to your country, Director, is its greed. The Autobots will not be enslaved." Optimus' optics were narrowed. "If you have nothing of merit to add, some of us have worthwhile things to be doing."

Realizing he may have pushed too far, Galloway chose to become silent, and was relieved he was not in the same room as the Autobots. Unfortunately his silence was not long-winded.

"I see that _new_ Autobots have arrived," Galloway suddenly announced, eyeing Prowl and Wheeljack.

"Last week," Prowl replied.

Optimus was eyeing Galloway with expression akin to suspicion. Sam had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end well.

"Then why haven't they been profiled? They could be a threat-"

"_No_ Autobot is a threat to the human race," Ratchet interjected. He added something in Cybertronian, and Ironhide sniggered.

Prowl cast him a frosty glance. "Our unfortunately esteemed CMO is correct. You do not need to fear us."

"It is not fear." Optimus suddenly spoke. "No, it is not _fear _that Theodore Galloway is held by, and he knows it."

General Morshower cut across the surely venomous reply. "I think it's time for a break. Meet you all back here in an hour. Dismissed."

As everyone stood up and stretched, Optimus made to walk with Sam as he left the room.

Somebody else got there first.

Sam's eyes widened slightly as a tall, white and green mech dived in front of him. "Optimuuuuuuuus-!"

"**Wheeljack**_,_" Prime hissed in Cybertronian. "**Be **_**careful**_."

"My deepest apologies, boy!" Wheeljack babbled. "Gosh, it's simply fantastic to finally meet you!"

"Um, you too? Who-"

"I'm _Wheeljack_," Wheeljack cried.

Sam paled, immediately glancing to Optimus for help. Unfortunately, the mech was busy talking to Prowl. "O-oooh, right. Ratchet's told me- ah- a lot about you."

"Ratchet's great, isn't he? Oh, look! He's looking this way; wave at him, boy!"

Sam's cheek spasmed. "You- you see that frown? He doesn't look very happy."

"Ah, he doesn't want me to talk to you. I don't know _why_," the inventor sighed. "But never mind! Here, would you do something for me?"

"Depends," Sam replied suspiciously.

"Oh, it's nothing much! Here," Wheeljack's fingers suddenly grasped him, and lifted the human up to his chassis, indicating a part with his other hand. "See that? That raised green section?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Would you just touch it for me? And tell me what you feel."

"...Is- is it going to eat through my skin?" Sam asked nervously.

"No."

"Not corrosive, then. Is it an irritant?"

"No."

"Is it scalding hot?"

"No."

"Is it ice-cold?"

"No."

Sam couldn't think of anything else. "So- so why?"

"Consider me curious."

"Right."

Wheeljack watched him intently as he leaned forwards.

This fact was not lost on Sam, but he dismissed it as _curiosity_ with a brief shrug, and pressed his palm against Wheeljack's chassis. "Like- like this?"

"That's just fine. Just keep it there."

"...Are we waiting for something?" Sam blinked as he noticed glowing blue streaks along the sides of the inventor's face. "Those are _cool_."

"How did you feel when you were about to bring Prime back to life?"

Startled, Sam opened his mouth to stutter _anything_, just one word from a thousand-_"he __**saved**__ me; desperation, determination, __**hope**__; this can't be the end"- _when some of Wheeljack's armour shifted with a whir. His hand fell through into the space made, and he cried out as it tingled, a shock jolting into his forearm. He rapidly jerked his hand away, cradling it and eyeing the mech with trepidation.

The engineer's face was lit by brilliant white light. _"Fantastic_._"_

Optimus' helm snapped in their direction. He was immediately beside Wheeljack- Sam literally threw himself at the flamed mech and was gently and firmly caught.

The huge Autobot was concerned. "Sam?"

"I'd- I'd like to speak with you alone? By ourselves?"

Prime's optics narrowed. "Is this because of _Wheeljack?_"

The inventor was in a daze. "That's me!"

"No, no," Sam assured hurriedly, still clutching his arm. "It's about something else- but please, now?"

"Would you like to walk?" Optimus asked.

"Yes, good, walking, healthy," the human gabbled whilst Prime motioned with his optics at somebody over his head.

Ratchet suddenly stalked past them. "_Wheeljack!_"

"Ratchet, you _have_ to see this," they heard the engineer breathe.

"I don't need to see anything. You're coming with me. Now."

Sam blinked as the medic forcefully led the other out. "What's going on?"

**"I told you not to talk to him!" **Ratchet could be heard snarling.

Optimus tenderly placed him on the floor. "You wanted to speak with me. We should take a walk; a change of scenery is always highly beneficial."

The boy obviously had a lot on his mind, as he immediately started talking to the Autobot leader.

"So- I don't really understand how I can help you," Sam desperately appealed, walking -er, almost running to keep up with the other's languidly long strides- out of the meeting. "There's- there's all these guys with qualifications and experience- I don't have anything, nothing at all! I'd screw up majorly- I mean, I always do- it wouldn't even matter what you wanted me to do!"

Prime's optics held him for a moment, then seemed to almost soften. "We ask too much of you."

" Optimus, I just don't see how I can add anything. Do- do you see? I've just been in the right place at the right time- or maybe that's the wrong place? Look; _I_ could have been anyone; anybody could have had those glasses."

" But _you _had them," the mech replied. "And you have achieved incredible feats already in such a short span. _You _are the one we need."

Unable to express himself, Sam struggled for a moment and then sighed, shaking his head. "You seem pretty set on me."

"Nobody else could possibly do what you could."

" I don't know what you want me to do," Sam's voice suddenly seemed quiet, far away as he stopped walking- _after all, what was the point in walking when you had no destination? _"I don't _know_."

He didn't need to look around to sense Optimus kneel behind him.

" I realise that you feel overwhelmed- and I truly regret to ask so much of you. But ask I must, because the Autobots depend on this. If you cannot fight for us, then nobody else will do. You _know_ us, Sam, and I trust you- with my life."

Turning his head, Sam looked up at the huge being. "You always believed in me."

"I always will."

Maybe it was at that moment Sam realised that Optimus wasn't an alien. Size was nothing. Metal was irrelevant. Hearts were meaningless. _Souls _were what really mattered. Optimus Prime was a friend- a friend who needed him. And if he wouldn't even try and help, he didn't actually deserve to look the other in the eyes.

Hang on- did Transformers call them eyes? Sam doubted it. Oh dear. He had a lot to learn.

"...I'm going to need your help," he began truthfully. "A lot of it. I don't know the first thing about representing anything- well, 'part from being a dork. You don't have many people to stand up for you besides yourself."

Prime paused. "...Dork?"

"Never mind. I'll do it- as best I can." Sam frowned suddenly. "And I'm not going to fail- I can't."

"You have never failed us," Optimus assured. "Even when all seemed lost, you refused to admit defeat."

" No, no- I didn't mean that. I..." _(Why was it that the words you wanted never presented themselves?) _"I'm probably the only one who could do this for you, right...? Then I won't let you down." He couldn't find the words to tell Optimus that this time, _this_ time he'd do it right; he'd fight for them. But when he glanced at the majestic lifeform, Sam saw that he understood.

Prime spoke earnestly, softly. "Thank you, boy."

" Hey," Sam feebly protested, "I'm not a boy anymore. Look; I'm a _man_- pff, what am I saying? You _all_ call me _boy_. Even Megatron called me _boy_."

"You'll always be a boy to me," Optimus firmly told him.

"Woah, woah!" he complained. "That's not fair! I'm grown and mature and-"

The mech hurriedly reassured him. "It is meant with no offence. Compared with any of the Autobots, you _are _the most youthful being we come into contact with."

"Youthful? As in, young?"

Optimus gave him a nod.

"I'm going to feel like a boy when I talk to those old people," Sam confessed, slightly abated. "They're all so intimidating."

" You have _us_, Sam- and regretfully, I believe that _we_ can be rather intimidating too." The Commander paused for a moment. "Megatron remains undefeated. He is coming back."

"Tell me about it," the human quietly replied with a small exhalation. "...I try not to think about it."

"If you do this for us, I fear you will be in even greater danger. It would grieve me to have you without constant surveillance."

"But I have 'bee," Sam reminded. "He doesn't let me out of his sight unless another Autobot is there- and even then he's still wary."

"Bumblebee is a strong mech with incredible agility," Prime agreed, "But he could not contest Megatron- nor many Decepticons- in terms of strength or firepower. If Megatron himself came for you, he would be vanquished."

" But- but there's always been that chance," Sam objected, forcing back horrific flashing images of various demons hurting- _torturing_, _killing_- Bumblebee. "And I don't see why Megatron would be after me. I'm nothing now, just another human. No Allspark knowledge, nothing."

" And yet you have defied him," Optimus disagreed with a sad smile. "You have killed him, and you came back to life after he killed _you._ You brought about the end of his old master through resurrecting _me, _which must have been fairly annoying in its own right. If he hears of you aiding us further, I would say his strong dislike will erupt into rage."

Sam's cheek twitched. "...I guess when you put it that way-"

"When Megatron returns, it will be swift and brutal, you can count on that much." Optimus lifted his gaze to the stars. "I learned that the hard way."

"...Did you know him well?" Sam asked, intrigued. "Before the war, I mean."

"I did," Prime replied softly without hesitation. "I did know him for a little while."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the skies.

"I would prefer it if you stayed here from now on," the mech suddenly proposed. "It would be far safer."

" I learnt to take _your_ advice the hard way," Sam replied wryly. "I'll stay, but I need to have contact with my parents and Mikaela."

"It is your right," Optimus hurriedly assured. "We do not aim to deprive you in any manner. We are in your debt again."

"Eh, we'll see how much you thank me when I try to stand up for you." He was suddenly struck by something. "Are those meetings usually so heated? I mean, it was really quite aggressive and- vicious, really. Like scoring points, like some kind of challenge."

"The Director seems to hold some unusual grudge against us, and I cannot fathom its origin. I am afraid you only assume the worst from your experience today. It is not always so-" He definitely grimaced. "-unpleasant. Nor, in fact, is it always so Galloway orientated. I fear some sort of scheme is underway."

"...Scheme?" Sam repeated uncertainly. "What, like a plan? Underhand, sneaky?"

Optimus paused. "Know that I will not keep information from you, Sam- but _now_ is just not the moment to speak. We do not have the luxury of time."

"We have an hour," the human recalled. "An hour is plenty of time."

Sam could have sworn that- for a second- Prime's Spark had been broken. The mech's entire face was cast in a shadow of sorrow- and it vanished in a blink.

"...Optimus?"

"Mm?"

"You- you alright, big guy?" Sam peered up at him.

"I am." Prime suddenly began shifting, folding- armour slotting together in a rearrangement that never failed to provoke awe, Sam didn't even notice he had finished transforming, and was slightly startled when the low voice rumbled out of the Peterbilt's speakers."How would you like to have a tour?"

Some sort of excited gurgle erupted from Sam's throat as he hurried towards the semi. "Yesyes-!"

Once he was safely inside- _door firmly closed-_ Optimus began moving. "A proper tour would be better conducted in a greater span of time, of course."

"Pah, we've got all the time in the world," Sam grinned. "And besides, you need to start teaching me all about _you_."

"I suppose we do," Prime replied quietly.

"Are- are you sure you're okay? You seem down. Cheer up; nobody's killing either of us today!" Sam's smile only grew wider as his companion's engine rumbled suddenly. "See, 'bee does that when he's amused. I brilliantly conclude that that's what you do! Hey, I'm not so bad at this. You wait, I'm gonna show Galloway."

"That will be a fine occasion indeed," Optimus mused. "Speaking of, Ratchet insists on giving you diplomacy lessons."

"Wh-_what_?"

"Ratchet is multi-talented- or so he tells everyone," the Commander of the Autobots explained with a wicked lilt to his tone. "All will be revealed later."

"Why not now?"

Prime paused again. "Not in such a _public _place when ears are all around."

"You mean like people, listening in? Eavesdropping?" The human suspiciously peered through the windows. "I don't see anybody."

"They would not be able to _hear_ us whilst you are inside of me, but I would prefer to continue this particular conversation in a more private location."

"...One question," Sam suddenly bit his lip. "...Where am I sleeping?"

Optimus was amused again. "The Autobots invited you here, and thus you will be with us predominantly. I will briefly show you our sector in this _hour_."

"Drive on, my boy," Sam dramatically intoned. "...You will protect me from that golden nutter, won't you?"

"Golden nu- Sunstreaker? I'm sure he's busy at the moment. He shouldn't bother you," Prime assured. "He should be _very _busy."

* * *

Ratchet and Wheeljack were in the latter's lab, somewhat in a debate- or, rather, Ratchet was seething.

"I told you not to go near him."

"I know you did, but I couldn't control myself." Wheeljack shifted his chestplates, and carefully removed the Matrix from the panel.

"Ratchet, you have to see the Matrix, it's-"

"It's in a safe place where it _should_ be. Why should I look at it?"

"Because-"

"Wheeljack, are you an idiot? Do you realise what that boy has _been_ through at the hands of our race? You can't just- _assume_ he can handle you!"

"But- he seems fine," Wheeljack said uncertainly.

"Are you an expert on humans?"

"No," he admitted quietly.

"We're all very lucky he hasn't had any breakdowns," Ratchet exclaimed. "He isn't a _normal_ boy!"

"Listen, Ratchet- you _must _look at this," Wheeljack pleaded as the artifact vibrated, glowing.

"Wheeljack, I swear to Primus that if you're jabbering on about the Matrix I _will_ reformat you. This isn't the time. And if I _think_ that I don't have your full attention, I'm going to sedate you and fiddle with your processor."

The inventor hurriedly placed the Matrix of Leadership onto a shelf. "I- I am listening, and I'll apologise to Sam. I didn't mean to startle him; I was just excited."

Ratchet wheeled around, optics narrowed. "I'm serious, Wheeljack. You realise that Megatron's after him-? He must be scared _witless._ Out of all humans, he needs to have faith in us the _most_."

"Mega-?" Wheeljack winced, his facelights dimming to a dull shade. "I didn't know that."

"Now you do. No excuses." Ratchet suddenly brightened. "In fact, I'll show you what might happen if you are an _idiot_ again."

"I promise I won't do anything to Sam," the inventor swore.

"Oh no, not just him. I mean, if you directly ignore an order from _me_."

"Right-ho," Wheeljack enthused, facelights a sudden dazzling blue. "What's that, then?"

"I'm sure the Twins will be quite happy to give you a display. Let's go and find them."

"Sure! But- hang on," the engineer sighed. "Might have to hold on that. The meeting will begin shortly."

Ratchet cursed in five different languages. "Afterwards, then."

* * *

Said Twins were busy valiantly endeavouring for _freedom_ in the medbay.

"Just a little farther..." Sideswipe said, reaching desperately for the flamethrower. "Scoot us over just a little more, Sunny!"

"Why do I have to do this?" the golden Corvette complained. "Physical lab-"

"Do you want to be un-welded or not?" his brother snapped back, turning to glare at his stubborn twin.

"Fine."

Sunstreaker slowly inched the berth over (albeit reluctantly), and Sideswipe finally managed to grasp his prize. "Yes!"

Minutes later, the Stingray twins were freed from the berth, and began sanding down the welds on their afts.

Sunstreaker frantically toiled. "This- this could ruin me! This is all your fault!"

As his brother indignantly replied and argument broke out, both neglected to keep vigilance- and most unfortunately for the two, Prowl happened to be coming down the corridor to check up on them in case they were up to no good. True, they may have been welded to a berth, but the tactician knew that such a minor detail would never prevent the twins from finding a way into trouble.

"Boys?..." Prowl said, rounding the corner into the medbay.

Sunstreaker was in mid-snap. "-if you had remembered to-" His words slowly trailed away as he noticed the older Autobot. "-to... to say 'Hi, Prowlie'...?"

Sideswipe's helm whipped around. "...Say, Prowlie. How are you? You look really well...?"

Prowl eyed them for a moment.

The twins stayed motionless. //_Do you think he won't see us_?//

//_I blame your colour. It's too bright_.//

_//__**Mine**__ is too bright-? I like __**that**_!_//_

Prowl suddenly spoke; calm, business-like. "So, boys. Would you enlighten me as to why you are evading your due punishment?"

"See, Prowlie, we don't like punishment," Sunstreaker explained.

"Punishment is- is sometimes painful, and with Ratchy it's also humiliating?"

There was an ominous growl as the tactician's doorwings tensed. "What have we all told you about these ridiculous nicknames?"

"...That you all really like them and you can't wait until we tell the humans?" the golden Corvette replied.

"Yes," Sideswipe agreed. "I mean, Sam would really love to call Prime 'Oppy'. Did you know we thought of one for Bumblebee, too? How about-" He paused dramatically, thrusting an open hand into the middle-distance, moving it sideways as he continued. _"Bumblemeister_._"_

"Well, we think it really makes everybody sound more dignified and heroic, yet more relatable and friendly-"

"What part of a _request_ from a senior officer don't you understand?" Prowl enquired, close to losing his cool again. Primus, this was happening too often.

Sunstreaker mused for a split-second. "Well, if it's only a request, we don't _have _to-"

The second actually growled. "You're coming with me _now_. Both of you."

Neither moved.

"Do you know what _now_ means?"

"But Prowlie," Sunstreaker complained, "our interpretation of _now_ is clearly different to yours. _Now_ is in a minute or so, because we're busy-"

Sideswipe caught a minute flicker in the tactician's optics. "Sunny, not the logic. You're going against-"

"Now may mean _immediately_ to you, but _now_ to us is entirely different-"

"Sunstreaker!" Prowl snarled, shuddering slightly. "I'm going to hand you over to _everybody_ who even remotely desires vengeance against you both!"

This finally stopped the golden Autobot, his confidence faltering. "E-everybody?"

"And they can do _whatever_ they like to you."

Sideswipe's optics widened. "Prowlie, you wouldn-"

Sunstreaker was beyond bargaining, transforming mid-dive in the opposite direction. "Sides, _roll_!"

"You're an _idiot,_" Sideswipe wailed, imitating the action before shooting after him.

They darted past an astonished Epps, who blinked, scowling. "Damn. I knew I'd be too damned late."

Sideswipe didn't bother using their bond to communicate, instead blasting his opinion through his speakers. "Sunny, this is a death warrant!"

Sure enough, the powerful growl of Prowl's engine thundered terror into their sparks, his siren suddenly howling as he swung into view.

"How in the _Pit _is he so close?" Sunstreaker hissed, swerving to avoid crashing into a berth.

"Who cares? Just go! Go!" Sideswipe urged as they charged into the science lab.

" Door; I see freedom!" Sunstreaker cried, spotting an exit. He and his brother made a sharp turn towards their possible salvation, causing them to slam sideways into one of the shelving units in the lab. Both twins flew out their door to freedom at top speed with Prowl right behind them, sirens blaring. A few seconds later, the medbay and science labs were blissfully silent. Well, they _would _have been if it wasn't for one small, minor detail. The shelving unit Sideswipe and Sunstreaker slammed into was housing the Matrix, and the ancient, fragile artifact was jolted from its position and fell to the floor to its certain doom.

Luckily, Jazz's lifeless body was in its way.

The Matrix bounced off of the mech's chassis, which released a shockwave of super-charged energy that was then absorbed by the Cybertronian metal.

For a moment, nothing happened. But then...

"You wanna piece of me, Megatron?" Jazz suddenly yelled, twitching wildly and bolting upright. "What the...where's mah gun?" the saboteur asked aloud, noticing the absence of his crescent cannon. He looked around, almost fritzing from the seemingly sudden change of scenery. His sensors were on high alert, picking up every near-silent footstep and whisper. After nervously waiting for a few moments, Jazz was pretty sure that no one else was around, and stood up to further survey his surroundings.

"Sweet Primus...am I in some sorta torture chamber?" the saboteur wondered, noticing the strange instruments and chemicals Wheeljack brought with him to Earth with trepidation. "I don't like this..."

Jazz looked to his right and noticed a door that was slightly ajar. "Well, either the Decepticons are more incompetent than I thought, or it's not the Decepticons I'm with," he concluded, cautiously moving towards it. This room was _really_ starting to freak him out. The saboteur slowly opened the door further- and upon receiving no response from the outside, poked his head out into the corridor. It was empty. Sighing, as he had been hoping for some sort of clue as to where he was, he stepped outside of the "torture room" of doom, and was trying to determine where he should go when a familiar scent met his olfactory sensors. The mech grinned widely, instantly recognizing it. Only two cannons in the universe could create that distinct odor. Ironhide was close by- and with any luck, the rest of the Autobots too.

"Hope I can find those guys soon," Jazz mentioned, looking around the base. "Especially Ratchet. I gotta get this chronometer fixed. Keeps readin' out a time almost three years from now. Startin' to get a lil' creepy."

Though the longer he walked, the longer Jazz had to think. What was that room he was in, anyway? There were definitely Cybertronian objects there, but Ratchet hadn't brought anything with him but medical supplies. And why was he left alone in that room? Ratchet normally went a little psychotic--okay, _more_ psychotic-- when a patient was under his care. Had he been out longer than he thought? Or did something happen to Ratchet, forcing him to abandon Jazz? Or was Ironhide the only one here? Did everyone else die? Or maybe he _was_ with the Decepticons, and Ironhide was currently fighting his way out, diverting all Cons to wherever he was?

"_All this thinkin's hurtin' mah processor,_" Jazz thought. "_I'll just find a computer and see if it has any info f'me._"

The saboteur set off on a search for a computer, getting more and more nervous each passing astrosecond. What seemed like ages later, he finally found what he was looking for.

"Huh. NEST? Never heard of that," Jazz commented about the computer's screen saver. "Ah, maybe it stands for somethin'. Like, 'No one's Ever Seen There' or 'Non-Existent Sector Ten.' Well, there _is_ a Sector Seven..."

Suddenly, a beam of light shone from a tiny opening above the screen, scanning the surprised saboteur. Jazz was just about ready to run, in case it brought trouble, when the computer spoke.

"Designation; Jazz. Faction; Autobot. Rank; First Lieutenant. Specialty; Espionage. Height; 13 feet. Weight; 1.8 tons. Death; July 3, 2007."

"Hey! I'm 15 feet, 7 inches, thank you very much!" the mech scolded the computer. "...Wait an astrosecond...I'm...I'm _dead_? But I'm too _young_ t'diieeeee--!" Jazz wailed loudly, dramatically falling to the floor. "Why me? Why does the young, brilliant one always _die_?" Jazz continued, beating the ground with a fist. "S'not fair!" he said, letting his helm fall to the floor with a thud.

"Oww!"

Jazz rubbed his helm where it impacted the ground. "Tha' hurt! ...wait! It _hurt_! And y'not s'posed to feel pain when y'die!" he shouted excitedly. "I'm _**alive**_!"

* * *

"What's wrong, Ratchet?" Wheeljack asked, noticing the medic had stopped walking. "The meeting's starting again soon!"

"I thought I just heard..." he started, looking back. "Of all mechs, I thought I just heard...Jazz."

"Come on, Ratch. He's long gone. We both know that," Wheeljack replied, his usually joyful demeanor gone. "Wishful thinking won't bring him back. Or Arcee, for that matter."

"But I'm so close, Wheeljack! Arcee was much too damaged...but Jazz could still have been saved!...his Spark wasn't even out when I got to him! There has to be a way to get him back. I know we told the humans it's not a normal feat, but...I just know I can bring him back if I can just unlock the Matrix."

"You've been fiddling with the Matrix for almost a year now," Wheeljack countered, staring uncertainly at the medic. "I know you don't like to admit defeat, but sometimes you have to know when to just...give up."

"I will not," Ratchet said firmly. "Not until every single far-fetched, near-impossible idea has been tried." The medic's tone softened somewhat. "He was a big part of our team. He may have been a little dramatic and one of the most annoying mechs I've met, but he was _talented_, and just so full of _life_. He wasn't like us; he wasn't hardened by the war. His optimism was infectious; even you know that. He always knew what to say in tough situations to lighten the mood, or make accepting consequences easier. He embodied everything we were fighting for...life, freedom, goodness. He was a good mech, Wheeljack. I can't give up on him. Not when there's more that can be done."

Accepting his failure to convince Ratchet to stop blaming himself once more, Wheeljack wordlessly walked back to the meeting. Luckily for Ratchet, he was brought out of his musings at the sight of two troublemaking mechs, each trembling beneath Prowl's eerily narrow glare. Upon seeing Ratchet, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe literally crumbled to the floor.

"Prowlie, noooo-!"

"Please, please don't--! We beg of you-!"

"You've brought this upon yourselves, boys," Prowl replied firmly, crossing his arms as his doorwings twitched. "If you would only learn to follow rules, you wouldn't be caught in such situations."

"Oh, what _have_ we here, Prowl?" Ratchet asked, an unnerving grin appearing on his faceplates.

"Prowlieee-! Save us, please!" Sideswipe begged, diving behind the tactician.

"I'm afraid not, Sideswipe," Prowl replied, firmly grasping both his and his golden twin's shoulders and turning them to behold Ratchet in his luminous glory. "You must face this punishment head on."

"P-Prowl, have mercy-!"

The tactician blinked, clearly stunned. He had never heard Sunstreaker call him by his actual name. Oh, he must be _really _desperate. But now was not the time to get soft.

"I'm sorry, Sunstreaker, but you lost all mercy on my part when you took advantage of my lenience earlier."

//_I'm impressed, Prowl. How did you manage to catch them on your own?// _Ratchet inquired.

_//It was a lot of luck, actually. They chose a dead-end corridor and I managed to throw a few wheel locks on them before they could turn around and go through a wall.//_

The medic looked down and sure enough, there were two specially designed locks on each twin's wheels, allowing them to still function, but at a much lower speed. _//Wheeljack actually did something useful,// _he commented. //_Is it too much to hope they explode as well?_//

//_So, what sort of punishment should we bestow upon them this time?// _Prowl asked, turning to glare at the two cowering mechs.

//_I'm thinking,_// the CMO replied, relishing in the pure fear in both of the Corvettes' faceplates. //_And I think we should make them suffer in paranoia for some time._//

Prowl almost smirked. Almost. Watching the twins constantly look over their shoulders for a few days would be priceless. _//And I assume after sufficient time, you will administer a real punishment?//_

_//Of course. We can't have them thinking their paranoia's the only punishment. They'll figure it out after a while, and __**that**__ is when I will strike.//_

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were so busy cowering they didn't notice Ratchet turn away from them. It wasn't until Prowl began walking forward, thus pushing the Twins forward too, did they dare open their optics.

"W-what?" the silver Stingray asked, obviously confused. "We're not being...punished?"

"Oh, no, you are, boys," Prowl stated factually. "Just not at the moment. There's a meeting going on that we must attend."

"Okay," Sunstreaker said, trying to inch his way out of Prowl's grip. "We'll let you both get on with it then..."

"Afraid not, you two," Ratchet replied from over his shoulder. "We obviously can't trust you to be alone. You will be supervised by myself and Prowl at the meeting." He glanced over his shoulder, almost laughing at the fearful mechs. "And you are to remain completely and totally silent during its course. Is that understood?"

"A-absolutely."

"Unders-stood."

"Good," the medic replied, entering the meeting room. Prowl and the twins were right behind him.

_//Sunny, are you as afraid for your life as I am?//_

_//Yeah. Ratchet's eerily calm. He's never this calm. There's not even an evil glint in his optics. Something's wrong!//_

_//I hate to admit this, but I prefer Ratchet Wrath to this new, not-pretending-to-be calm Ratchet. At least then we knew what was coming.//_

_//And Prowlie's actually mad,// _Sideswipe said, drooping slightly._ //He's never actually been mad before. It was always disappointment before now.//_

_Sunstreaker didn't even have it in himself to blame this on his brother. //I know,// _the golden twin replied. _//I think we finally crossed the line.//_

_//We'll have to find a way to make it up to both of them.//_

_//Good idea,//_ Sunstreaker agreed._ //But there's one problem.//_

_//What?//_

_//We have to get out of this alive first.//_

* * *

"I'm _aliiivvvee_!" Jazz cheered, bouncing off the walls in his happiness. Finally calming down after realizing he was, in fact, alive, the saboteur approached the computer once more and looked for some possibly useful information.

"Awesome! Optimus an' the others are okay!" Jazz commented happily, scrolling through the information. "And 'Jack, Sunny, n' Sides are here too?" he added, grinning. "And Jolt! Man, haven't seen that mech in ages." Jazz's grin grew even wider upon reading the last Autobot to arrive. "Prowlie!" he nearly shouted from excitement. "Oh, Prowlie, y'came to Earth!"

Jazz continued to read; learning about the formation of NEST, though he became slightly confused after reading a few different things. First, it said Arcee, Mudflap, Skids, Jolt, and Sidewipe arrived in July 2008. Then, that Optimus and Arcee died, in July 2009. And finally, that Optimus was brought back to life in July 2009, followed by the extremely recent arrival of Wheeljack, Sunstreaker, and Prowl, and the subsequent absence of Mudflap and Skids in June 2010. But it was only July 2007! That time hadn't happened yet! Something just wasn't _right_ here.

"Alright, archives; speak to me," Jazz muttered, determined to find out exactly what happened. "July 2007." _Which should be now_, the saboteur thought uneasily.

The silver mech looked up all the files from that time period, and pulled up the one concerning the fight in LA with Megatron."'Regrettably, one Autobot was killed in the fight. His designation was Jazz.'" he read slowly. "'All efforts to revive him failed, and he was buried at sea into the Laurentian Abyss with the defeated Decepticons until late 2009. The Autobots requested his body be brought back to the newly created Autobot base for reconstruction, and endeavours continue to return him to life.''' The saboteur quickly checked the date of the article. Definitely July 2007. And then, nervously, the current date the computer displayed. June 2010.

" What?" Jazz said, staring blankly at the screen. The date on the computer confirmed his own chronometer; it wasn't malfunctioning. It really had been almost three years since that fight with Megatron. "I've been out for _three_ _years_?" He slumped against the wall, sliding into a sitting position. It all made sense now. He was alone- in what must have been Wheeljack's creepy science lab- because he was _dead_. He wasn't in the medbay, with Ratchet making sure he wasn't dying, because he was already _dead. _All that information was confusing for him because, when all that happened, he had been _dead._ After contemplating this depressing revelation for a few minutes, Jazz began to reason that being dead for three years was better than being dead forever, and- regaining his normal, happier demeanor- once again set off to find his team. They had to be around here somewhere.

Using his sensors, Jazz concluded that most everyone on the base, both human and Autobot, were centrally located in a single, rather large room. Most likely in some sort of meeting. Jazz loved meetings. Especially trying to make important mechs laugh at inappropriate moments. "Oh, this'll be fun," he snickered, heading that direction.

Upon reaching the door, the saboteur smirked with the thought of the chaos that would ensue the second he entered. He _was_ supposed to be dead, after all. After picking his perfect entrance line, Jazz threw open the door and dove into the middle of the meeting. However, before his epic one-liner could be said, Jazz tripped over a chair, stumbled, crashed through a table of startled NEST soldiers and skidded to a halt in the center of the room, which was now dead silent.

"_Frag _you, stabilisers!...I messed that one up pretty bad..." the saboteur muttered, pulling himself off the floor and dusting off his armor. "...What?" he added, unable to keep a grin from forming at the looks on everyone's faces. "Y'all look like you've seen a ghost or somethin'!"

"...Jazz? Is that really you?" Optimus asked, finally breaking the shocked silence. Suddenly a wrench came whizzing by the Autobot Commander, colliding with Jazz's helm.

"Well, he's not a hallucination," Ratchet concluded, optic brows furrowing.

"Nice to see you too, Ratch," Jazz scowled, rubbing his helm. "Ya haven't changed a bit, I see."

"Who-who's he?" Galloway asked quickly, pointing at the saboteur. As if no one noticed his graceful entrance.

"That...would be Jazz," Optimus replied, a little uncertainly.

"That's mah name!" Jazz added brightly. "So, what's goin' on in here? Some sorta meeting?"

"Well, that what we were doing, until you ever so nicely crashed in," Galloway snapped. "Wait. Wait just one second. You say your name is Jazz, right?"

"Tha's me!"

"But you're supposed to be dead! How are you here?"

"As much as I hate to agree with him, the Director has a point," Ironhide added, cannons rotating uneasily. "How _are_ you alive, Jazz?"

"Oh, that's easy! I was..." Jazz started, until he realized he had no idea. "Um, well, that's a good question."

"You see!" Galloway triumphantly cried. "You're _all_ doing it."

"I would ask you to retain respect for our fallen warriors." Prime's voice was a low, controlled growl as he fixed the human with a terrible glare. "I _would_, except you seem incapable of decorum."

Jazz blinked behind his visor. "Did I resurrect myself at ah bad time?"

"There is never a bad time to see you, Jazz." Optimus turned back to him, entire face softening even as he addressed the humans. "We need a moment."

Morshower cut across Galloway's splutter. "Of course. We'll continue with less important matters."

Epps blew air out of his cheeks. "Whoop."

"Sam," Prime paused and suddenly indicated for him to join them.

"Hey," Jazz suddenly noticed, growing excited. "Isn't- isn't that th'boy? Yes! This is jus' like present day! Boy, did you get th'Allspark away? Don't tell me ah died f'nuthin'!"

Sam winced as all eyes fell on him.

There was a slight murmuring as other people began recognising him.

Graham mused for a moment. "This is just a guess, but I reckon they're remembering you from that worldwide hacking."

"Go," Lennox muttered, glancing around.

Sam panicked. "But I'll be intruding on them- if he's just been resurrected, they won't want me there-!"

"They want you as their ambassador, kid. Of course they do. Now _beat_ it before Galloway starts on you."

"Ass_hole_," Epps quietly affirmed.

The centre of frowning eyes (his own nervously focused on his destination), the young man hurriedly stood, crossed the room- _try not to run; no running, not cool_- and nearly dove behind Ironhide's foot. _Safe_.

"Y'never answered mah question," Jazz probed, hurt.

Ratchet pushed the saboteur out of the room. "Questions from you later. Right now, _you're_ in the _spotlight_."

"Ratchet's Spotlight," Wheeljack said brightly as they all followed. "Not the most comfortable place, eh? I've been there a lot, you see, and personally-"

Wheeljack was cut off with a warning look from the CMO.

"And...and personally, I think it's a wonderful place to be, under his caring and-and watchful optic, making sure we don't...blow ourselves up?"

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe nodded enthusiastically.

"Or make fools of ourselves!"

Ratchet didn't even look at them."Nice save, Wheeljack."

"We were just ignored," Sideswipe whispered in horror. His brother couldn't quite process the idea.

Prime, noticing Sam was struggling to keep up with the relatively moderate pace, picked the panting human up.

"Th-thanks," he managed.

"Not a problem, boy."

"...I am _not_ a boy," Sam automatically responded.

"Just one moment," Prowl suddenly spoke. He had stopped walking some steps ago.

The group paused, turning to him.

"Prowl, if this is your processor informing you that you're glitched, dismiss it." Ratchet sounded weary. "We can all see him."

"This...this doesn't make sense. How can a mech just...come back to life after three years?!" he asked, struggling to find the logic.

" But I'm here, Prowlie! See?" Jazz replied happily, diving forward to hug the near-fritzing mech. "Touch me, I'm _real_!"

The stunned tactician stood frozen as he was glomped by the anomalous being. After being released, he managed a sort of wail- "It's not logicaaaaal!"- before promptly crumpling to the floor from processor overload.

"Prowlie!" The Twins wailed, diving to catch him.

Ratchet's optics narrowed. "Get away from him, cretins-!"

"We caught you, Prowlie!" Sideswipe assured the tactician.

"Damn straight we did! We wouldn't let you scrape your paintwork, or dent-"

"Ah, Prowlie," Jazz sighed. "I've missed him."

The Twins hurriedly moved away from the unconscious mech as Ratchet sucked in a deep ventilation.

"Huh, probably went a _little_ overboard on that, though," Jazz commented, scratching his helm lightly.

"You _idiot_," Ratchet hissed. "You know how he is!"

"...But I died! Can't ah have some fun?"

Prime sighed. "Wheeljack, Ironhide; would you please carry Prowl to the medbay?"

"I see _you_ have such a heavy burden," Ironhide raised an optic ridge at Sam. "Hands all taken up with the boy."

Optimus scowled at him playfully. "Be quiet and do as you're told, minion."

"Hah!" Ironhide laughed, picking up the fallen tactician by his shoulders. "The day you have 'minions' is the day I give up target practice."

" Well, maybe you should start shooting at _Decepticons _instead," Prime countered gleefully.

"Watch it, youngling," the black mech scowled.

" I am _not_ a youngling-"

" Nor is the boy a boy." Ironhide's cannons whirred smugly. "Besides, you _are_ compared to the experienced, seasoned warrior you see before you."

_Seasoned? _Sam was momentarily excited before reminding himself that they didn't mean flavouring. He mentally made a note to learn all he could about the Autobots- no, not just the _Autobots_. He wanted to know the _mechs_.

Ratchet pushed Jazz roughly- the saboteur crashed into the floor with a startled _graak_. "Hm; reflexes not up to much. Looks like you need me to _inspect_ you."Jazz's shoulders sagged. "Oh, _man_."

* * *

And that's it, for this chapter. :D

Yes, we brought in Wheeljack. We couldn't resist. Kibble Beast and I actually spent quite some time figuring out what type of car to give him for his alt mode. See, he was a Mustang before, but we decided that he would end up being too small with that one, as we envisioned him to be about Ratchet's size. We kinda sorta agreed on a Ford Escape Hybrid. Because he's a scientist and eco friendly, and all. Otherwise he is relatively close to his G1 self, with the same-ish colors and design.


End file.
